


Human shields

by MissSlothy



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 04:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 60,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6738220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSlothy/pseuds/MissSlothy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fallout from one of Steve's missions in Afghanistan finds its way to Hawaii.</p>
<p>Told from Lou's POV.  Focuses mainly on Steve and Danny.</p>
<p>Finally finished after 10 months!  It's been fun - thanks everyone for reading, it's hugely appreciated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All feedback and critique is greatfully received. Please note my spelling is British English.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written from Lou's POV.

The days when Grover misses Chicago are becoming less and less. Sure, there’re people he misses, wishes he could have kept in contact with. And sometimes he misses the camaraderie of Chicago PD, the memories still able to pull a shadow over the brightest day.

He’s not a stupid man though. His time with Chicago PD didn’t end well. There’s a reason he ran to Hawaii. And on the islands he’s found a new team, a new way of life that’s warming his soul again, giving him and his family another chance.

He’s grateful beyond words. Even on the toughest days.

Today’s not a tough day though. It’s warm without a cloud in the sky. It’s taken him a while to get used to the weather, the heat and the rain, but as he slips into the cab of his truck he’s humming quietly to himself. Looking back at the house Grover smiles, noticing the flowers in blossom in the yard, the ones they’d planted when they’d first arrived. Renee had laughed, joking about putting down new roots. He laughed too but the worry and concern he her eyes had twisted at his heart.

He wasn’t the only one who’d had to run to Hawaii. He wouldn’t let them down like that again.

Putting the truck into drive he pulls away. His humming falters as the radio springs into life and he allows himself a wry smile as Bon Jovi’s ‘It’s my life’ blares out. He’d given Danny a lift home the previous afternoon because the Camaro was in the garage (again, as Danny pointed out many times, venting his frustration about insane partners and gun fights and about calling in SWAT teams rather than assuming the Camaro has magical armoured plating properties, which by now he must have noticed it doesn’t… ). Like a parent soothing a small child he’d put the radio on to the local rock music station and it had worked like a charm. Once he’d stopped ranting about Neanderthals who wouldn’t let him choose his own music in his own car it turned out Williams had a surprisingly good singing voice.

Making a mental note to find a karaoke bar for the next time the team went out for beers, he pointed the truck towards the Governor’s residence. The summons from the Governor, received the evening before, was unexpected but not particularly worrying. As far as he was aware, McGarrett and his team hadn’t stepped over the line, or at least not the line Steve had drawn for them. More importantly the results spoke for themselves. This remote island in the middle of the Pacific wasn’t as defenceless as the criminal world might think. And for those that were stupid enough to get on the plane or boat anyway, then they soon discovered that there was an ex-Navy Seal and a highly competent team of detectives just waiting to push them back into the sea.

Pulling up at the security point outside the Governor’s mansion, Grover lowered the window and unclipped his shield from his belt to show to the soldier on guard. The day Steve had given him his badge had been one of mixed emotions. Fear of the unknown had made him hesitant to accept. He’d already let his family down again and now he was being asked to join a team that worked outside the rules, taking risks that he’d promised himself he’d never take again. Pride had been uppermost though, pride that this man who stood tall and led from the front, who picked himself and kept going no matter what life threw at him thought that he, Lou Grover, was good enough to stand beside him.

Like Danny said, McGarrett never let anyone say no. But he’d seen the affectionate smile Williams had directed at his partner’s back as he’d handed over the badge. They’d all had plenty of chances to go. But they stayed. 

That was McGarrett’s greatest skill, his ability to inspire loyalty. And yet, in many ways, he seemed oblivious.

Grover shook his head as pulled over into a parking space and got out of the truck. For such a clever man who had spent much of his life analysing the behaviour of others in order to survive, Steve was surprising naïve about his own behaviour and its effect on others.

It looked like the others in question were already here. Scanning the cars parked beside him he spotted Chin’s red muscle car and the now repaired Camaro, newly polished and gleaming in the sun. At least Danny would be in a better mood he reflected wryly as he headed into the Mansion.

“Where’s McGarrett?” he asked, spotting Danny, Chin and Kono perched on the couches in the reception room. His big blue truck had been conspicuous by its absence.

His question had been light-hearted, ready to make the most of McGarrett’s unusual tardiness. The worried scowl Danny throws his way set warning bells off though.

“He’s not answering his cell or text messages,” Kono offers as Danny goes back to pressing buttons angrily on his phone. 

The sharp tip tap of heels across the marble floor interrupts his next question. He turns to find the Governor’s personal assistant, Lani, waiting for them. She exudes professionalism, smartly dressed as always in a blue jacket and skirt. But she’s frowning, her lips tightly pursed. It’s the opposite of her usual friendly smile and he feels himself tense. 

Lani acknowledges them with a nod. “The Governor’s waiting for you”.

Apparently he’s not the only one feeling the tense atmosphere. Beside him Danny steps up. He’s bristling, defensive and it’s only a light elbow nudge from Kono that stops him from striding right into Lani’s personal space. With a huff he acknowledges Kono but doesn’t step back. 

“Steve’s not here yet and he’s not answering his phone. I need to go check-“

“That won’t be necessary, Detective Williams.”

As one they turn to find the Governor approaching. He looks tired, Grover thinks. It’s not often that he meets the Governor, that task usually left to McGarrett. But it suddenly hits him how much the man has aged during his term in office. It’s an election year he suddenly remembers. The Governor must have a lot on his mind. And now he’s summoned Five-O.

The good mood he’d been feeling first thing that morning is a distant memory.

“Why not?”

He’d forgotten the Governor’s question but beside him Danny obviously hasn’t. Drawn up to his full height Grover is reminded why no one should ever underestimate the Jersey-born detective. Particularly when he feels his partner is being threatened in some way.

The Governor spares them a brief glance before waving towards a closed door. “This way, please.”

It’s a command rather than a request and they all respond apart from Danny who doesn’t move. “Governor-“

The Governor carries on walking, not looking back. “Lieutenant Kelly?”

The command this time is unspoken but clearly understood. In Steve’s absence the Governor is expecting Chin to lead the team. Grover looks over, expecting Danny to argue but Chin has a hand on his shoulder, a gentle shake of his head stopping the impending explosion. Neither of them looks happy though and Grover understands why. It’s not the fact that the Governor ‘pulled rank’ on them. It’s not something they are focused on as a team and Steve has always been more concerned about everyone working to their strengths – and that often means Danny leading in the field while Chin works back at the office. No, they’re more worried that their questions about Steve are being studiously ignored.

As a group they follow the Governor through the Mansion. He slows as they approach the Governor’s office but the Governor keeps walking. The four of them share a nervous glance but carry on following, Chin at their head. Their concern ramps up further as they follow Governor down flights of steps, taking them into the bowels of the Mansion.

Turning one final corner, Grover feels his heart skip a beat. There are two soldiers guarding a door. Fully armed, they look like McGarrett on the toughest days.

In the heavy silence that follows Grover can’t stop his nervousness bubbling over. “You taking us to the dungeons, Governor? What did McGarrett do this time?”

The Governor’s lip twitch upwards and Grover realises he’s as nervous as the Five-O team. “It’s the incident room”.

“There’s been an incident?” Danny asks, sharing a worried look with the team as the soldiers step aside to let them into the room. 

“Not recently.” The Governor sounds distracted as the door closes behind them. Grover can’t help looking over his shoulder as the soldiers disappear from sight. The door is heavy, swinging slowly shut with a thud and a hiss of air that suggests they are not getting back out of here unless someone lets them. He flashes Kono a reassuring smile when he catches her looking at the door too. Together they join Danny and Chin to sit down in front of a large screen on the wall. The room looks dusty and unused but the Governor seems confident operating the equipment before joining them.

“Governor Denning.” The screen has flickered to life. A middle-aged man with short grey hair and wearing a dark shirt suit stares back at them.

“Agent Baker.”

‘CIA’ Grover thinks as the agent and the Governor tersely exchange pleasantries. Back in Chicago just looking at a man and demeanour wouldn’t had helped him know which agency he worked for. It’s another skill he’s learnt from McGarrett. Beside him Danny’s leaning forward in his chair, shoulder muscles bunched as if he’s bracing himself for a blow. Kono’s rubbing her lips nervously and Chin’s sat statue-like, watching every detail like a hawk. 

“Where’s Steve?”

Grover knows Danny is starting to sound like a broken record but he’s just asking the question they all want an answer to. There’s lot of reasons Steve might not be answering their calls but right now they are sitting deep down in the Governor’s bunker, talking to the CIA. There is no way these things are a co-incidence.

The CIA agent cocks his head questioningly, his eyes flicking towards the Governor. “Steve?”

“Lieutenant Commander McGarrett.” The Governor gives Baker a look that could kill. 

Baker seems oblivious. “McGarrett is at another briefing,” he explains, breaking eye contact to type on the keyboard in front of him. Another screen on the wall in front of them springs into life.

The face that appears on the screen this time is familiar to Grover but it takes him a minute to place him. Chin is quicker. “Stanley Rosso. Wasn’t he the Deputy Secretary of State?”

“Wasn’t he injured in plane crash? In Afghanistan?” Danny’s leaning forward now, teeth worrying his lower lip as he puts the information together.

“Correct.” Leaning back in his seat, Baker looks ready to deliver a sermon. “Stanley Rosso was the Deputy Secretary of State. In 2004 he travelled to Afghanistan as the Secretary of State’s representative. The Taliban had started a new wave of insurgency the year before and we were in negotiation with the Afghan government, discussing potential counterinsurgency operations.”

Grover nodded, the details coming back to him. “I remember now. They completed the talks but his plane crashed not long after take-off.” Rosso’s picture had been all over the media: his rescue and triumphant return to the US, his well-documented struggle to overcome his injuries, and his continuous campaigning for those, like him, who had suffered serious injury and were living with life-changing mobility issues.

“No.”

The single word snapped Grover out of reverie. Across the room the Governor was studying the carpet, refusing to meet their eyes. Baker was watching them closely, gauging their reactions Grover realised. Taking a deep breath he sat up straighter and tried not to notice how it felt like the walls were closing in.

“Agent Baker.” Danny’s tone was low, the words deceptively slow but he instantly gained the agent’s attention. “I don’t know what the hell you’re trying to prove but I’m guessing my partner is involved in this somehow. I’m going to give you 60 seconds to stop bullshitting us before I leave this room and go and find Steve for myself. Do you understand me?”

The practical part of Grover’s brain reminded him about the security surrounding the room but the approving nod the Governor gave Danny suggested it might not be as hard to get out as he thought.

Baker apparently agreed. “The plane did crash Detective Williams. But Rosso wasn’t on it. He’d been kidnapped by the Taliban 48 hours beforehand.”

“Shit.”

“Shit indeed, Captain Grover.” Baker shuffled uncomfortably on his seat before leaning over to bring another picture up on the screen. “He was kidnapped by this man, Abdul Nasheed Nika, a Taliban leader from Kandahar. The Afghan Government was, is, one of the most corrupt in the world. And Nika is an expert in using this to his advantage. He bought the intel necessary to break open the security plan we had in place for the talks. One night after the talks were finished Rosso returned to his hotel with his security detail. Nika and his men were waiting for them.”

“But…” Beside him Danny stutters to a halt, his hands waving in the air with frustration. Grover knows how he feels. “How did no one ever hear about this? How did…how did you even let-?”

“Let a member of the US Government fall into enemy hands,” the CIA finishes for him tiredly, wiping his hand across his face. For a moment Grover feels sorry for him, imaging the shit-storm the incident must have created. And then he remembers that someone has chosen to tell them this classified information in a secure bunker for some reason and his skin goes cold. 

“Yeah, that.”

Baker laughs but it’s not a happy sound. “Not to sound too callous Detective Williams, but Rosso himself didn’t have a lot of intel of use to the Taliban. He was just the front man. He was a trophy, a prize to be shown to the media. They needed him alive. For the first few days at least that was their focus, keep him moving to somewhere we couldn’t find him.”

“But you did.”

“We did. And we sent in an extraction team to get him out.”

There’s silence for a moment before Danny sucks in a deep breath. “A SEAL team.”

“Yes.”

Steve’s team. 

There’s no need to ask the question, to confirm that assumption. Three pairs of shoulders slump beside him and the Governor has his hands over his eyes. Baker is watching them all like a hawk again.

Grover can feel his anger growing, beside him he can feel Danny’s knee jiggling as he fights to contain himself. He gives him a knee bump and catches his eye, reminds him he’s not alone on this one. It’s time to stop the bullshit. 

“Okay,” he says, standing up to his full height which laughingly causes Baker to tip back in his seat, despite being thousands of miles away in Washington. “So, McGarrett’s team are successful and bring Rosso back home. What’s a case that happened over a decade ago got to do with us?”

Baker sighs again and Grover resists the urge to punch the screen. “The extraction was…messy.”

In a flash Danny is standing next him, causing Baker to flick back again, like a spectator at a tennis match. “Messy? What does that mean? Messy is what my 11 year old daughter does when she cooks pancakes. It is not a word used to describe a clandestine military operation.”

“There were casualties.”

“Casualties?”

“One of McGarrett’s team was killed, another seriously injured. Rosso was injured along with several civilians.”

Grover feels bile rise in his throat, memories of his time in Chicago rushing to the surface. He swallows hard, forcing himself to breathe. In war there are always casualties. But sometimes they are a means to an end. “You got him though, right? Nika?”

It’s several seconds before Baker answers. “No.”

“Fuck.” Danny’s moving now, his fingers running restlessly through his hair. Baker’s expression turns confused as Danny’s pacing takes him in and out of the view of the screen. For one insane moment Grover wonders if they can all join him and huddle against the wall so they can just talk about what the hell is going on… 

It’s Kono who breaks the silence. She’s been sitting quietly, watching them all in turn and it’s obvious she’s been listening, putting the pieces of the puzzle together. “So where is Nika now?”

Baker nods before answering. “Right now? We don’t know. But we have been tracking him and we know that he’s always been interested in the whereabouts of Rosso.”

“And Rosso is where?”

“He lives in Virginia. With a full security detail. Every three months we move him. Up to now it’s been a good way of keeping track of Nika, knowing that every now and then he’ll find Rosso and then hopefully we can track back intel on him and his cell. Just lately he’s been ramping up his activity-”

“So now he has to be stopped.”

“Yes.”

“Okaay.” Kono looks at each of them questioningly in turn. Grover answers for all of them with a shrug. “Sooo, if you’re after Nika why don’t you just make it look like you've taken away Rosso’s security detail and wait for Nika to make his move?”

“Because that won’t work,” Baker answers with another frustrated sigh. “Like I said, Nika understands intel, how to get inside an organisation. He won’t go for it and he’ll know we’ve been watching him.”

“So instead?”

“So instead we’re sending Rosso on vacation to-“

“-Hawaii.” Chin breathes the word out in one long sigh, eyes closing as he slumps back in his chair.

“Without his usual security detail,” the Governor adds in, the bitterness he’s feeling clear in his words.

There’s silence again for a moment until Danny speaks again, his body still again like it’s run out of energy. “While I would love to think Rosso has a thing for spam and shave ice I’m guessing Hawaii wouldn’t be his usual vacation destination.”

“No, it’s not. But it’s a remote location, controllable. And McGarrett fought against the Taliban for years. He has the experience to make this mission a success. And he has a good team behind him.”

Grover’s sure there is supposed to be a compliment in there somewhere but he lets it wash over him. He only half listens as Baker outlines a few more details, he’s got the gist of it. The CIA thinks there’s a high ranking member of the Taliban coming to Hawaii to execute an ex-member of the government very publically on US soil and they want the Five-0 team to stop them.

They need Steve he thinks, to help them work through this, understand their options. Something’s not right. With billions of dollars spent every year on security there is no way they can be the CIA’s only option. He turns to Danny, ready to ask about Steve, but this time he’s the one who gets the knee nudge, the imperceptible shake of the head.

Wait.

He takes the hint, forcing himself to relax. The rest is a blur but eventually the Governor stands up to indicate the meeting is over. The others follow his lead and stand too but it’s not until the Governor is about to switch off the screen that Grover realises they’ve forgotten to ask Baker the most important question. Nika may be a terrorist but 10 years is a long time to keep tracking one man like this, especially one who according to Baker has no intel value. Why is Rosso so important to him?

Baker’s leaning over his keyboard about to log off too when he asks him the question. The sudden jerk of his shoulders is the first hint that he’s hit the target. The guilt written all over Baker’s face is just the confirmation. His eyes flick nervously towards the Governor before he answers.

“The civilian casualties included Nika’s brother and daughter, Captain Grover.” 

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm from the UK so use British English spelling. I try to catch as many 'errors' as possible but there may still be a few in there. Please feel free to tell me if there are - I like to improve my writing.

Angry at himself for not pushing the CIA agent for an answer on Steve's whereabouts, Grover speeds up to intercept the Governor who's deep in conversation with Lani. Denning obviously knew what was going on before they spoke to Baker and that only fuels his anger. It feels like everyone was in on this plan before them, dragging them into God knows what. 

Betrayal. It's a strong word but that's what he feels as he focuses on Denning. 

"Governor, we want-"

"Governor, we need to go to the office, start planning for Rosso's arrival. I assume you'll contact us if Agent Baker has any other information?"

'You're damned right you'll contact us' is what he wants to yell but Chin is already rounding them up like a mother hen with its chicks. They gather momentum as they reach the exit, the Governor barely having time to acknowledge his question before they are out of the door and in the parking lot.

"Not here," Chin hisses as both he and Danny protest.

He's right, Grover realises, the fresh air and Chin's determined stare acting like a bucket of cold water, extinguishing his smouldering anger. The enormity of the classified information they've been given access to hits him again he nods once before climbing into his truck.

Normally if they were driving back together at some point it would turn into a competition to see who could get their first. The way they slowly snake through the early morning traffic reflects their somber mood.

It's too quiet, Grover thinks. Right now he needs Danny in the right-hand seat, Danny with his words and his hands and his way of pulling together all the threads of a case. Sure, there would be ranting too, lots of ranting right now, but that would be fine. He wants to rant too, to make some sense of this task they've been given.

For a brief moment he considers calling Renee. She'd understand his frustration.

Except he can't.

The knowledge hits him like a brick wall. There's always been cases he hasn't been able to talk about. But Renee's always been able to read between the lines. This time he has to put a lid on it. A Taliban leader threatening an ex-member of the US Government on home soil: there can't even be the barest hint of a rumour.

Baker might view Hawaii being in the middle of the Pacific as a tactical advantage. But Grover doubted the CIA man understood how much the place thrived on rumour (or 'scuttlebutt' as Steve often corrects him).

The empty space where Steve's truck should be parked mocks them as they arrive at the Palace. Danny's got his phone to his ear as he jumps out of the Camaro and he wonders how long it's going to take Steve to work through his messages if he gets them.

When he gets them, he reminds himself sternly. Steve is just at another briefing. Not everything to do with McGarrett has to have another more sinister meaning.

Except it usually does.

Rolling his eyes at his own melodramatic imagination, he heads for the office. He waits impatiently as Chin herds them into Steve's office then roots through the top drawer of McGarrett's desk, triumphantly pulling out a little black box. Switching it on he does a circuit of the office before taking a seat on the couch.

Danny's hands are already moving as he sits down beside him. "What the hell?"

"Bug detector," Chin explains succinctly. "No one's listening."

Mid-way through offering Kono McGarrett's large padded chair Grover freezes. Bug detector's aren't something he came across a whole lot in Chicago but back then he wasn't working for an ex-Navy SEAL with Naval Intelligence experience.

Kono's quiet giggle breaks the tension. "God I love the boss."

They all do, Grover thinks, settling Kono in the large chair before taking a perch on the corner of McGarrett's desk.

"So, where is he?"

"Well Baker said Steve was in another briefing," Chin replies to Danny's question.

"And?" The hands are back, making speech marks in the air, "what does 'briefing' mean? This island's not all that big and we were in the Governor's incident room for crying out loud. Where else would you go to be briefed about this kind of stuff?"

"Pearl Hickham."

Grover notes he's not the only one who jumps in surprise. Steve is standing in the doorway.

It's not his grim expression that catches Grover's attention as he pushes his way into his office. It's the khaki uniform he's wearing, his rigid stance, his cover clutched tightly under his arm. He's never seen McGarrett in uniform before, apart from in photographs, and the transformation is startling. He looks taller, leaner. 

He looks more remote.

It's like a punch to the stomach, a sudden dose of reality. Steve in his service dress uniform, surrounded by objects from his Navy career. For a moment his brain imagines they could be on a Navy base anywhere. This isn't just a Five 0 case they are working on, it's a military one. A high stakes military one.

Kono scrabbles out of the chair and silently Steve takes her place. He's discarded his cover and pulled his laptop out of his desk before anyone speaks.

"I've been trying to call you," Danny huffs, grabbing his phone, waving it in frustration. "You seen this before, Steven? It's called a phone. People use them to keep in touch. You know, when someone might be worried where they are."

"There's no signal in the situation room on the base. And you wouldn't have got a signal in the Governor's incident room."

McGarrett's tone is flat, emotionless, all his attention on the laptop in front of him. Danny leans forward, trying to catch Steve's eye. "So you know where we've been." 

That earns him an eye roll and McGarrett's hands finally still. "I know where you've been. And I know you've been calling," he adds with a glance at his own phone which Grover notices is helpfully telling him he has 16 missed calls and three messages.

"And you didn't think that we might be worried?" 

Grover can't stop himself from shuffling, the growing tension in the room making it impossible to sit still. Danny's tone has gone from frustrated and worried to angry and, from previous experience, is thundering towards furious like a runaway steam train.

"There's nothing to be worried about, Danny."

"Nothing to be worried about! What the- There's a terrorist coming to the islands and he's-"

He stutters to a halt as suddenly Steve's leaning over him, a warning finger pointed in his partner's face. With his other hand he's got the desk drawer open. Gun, Grover thinks, his training instinctively kicking in even as his brain tells him what a stupid thought that is.

"Oh," Danny breathes as the bug detection device appears in Steve's hand.

"We're good, brah. I already checked."

Steve blinks at the admonishment from Chin. And it is an admonishment Grover realises, despite Chin's deceptively gentle tone.

"Sorry." McGarrett's back in his chair, his right hand rubbing his forehead worriedly. It's an oddly reassuring gesture, more like the Steve they know, but then he takes a deep breath, shrugging his shoulders to sit up straight. The Navy man is back.

"So what's the plan?"

"The plan?"

Williams looks uncertain for a moment but plows on. "Us. You. The Taliban. Bad guys with guns.' Danny's miming shooting guns with hands but Grover can see he's fighting a losing battle. McGarrett's glowering at him, his lips pursed.

"There is no plan. I'm dealing with it, you don't need to be involved."

"Excuse me?"

McGarrett turns back to his laptop. "You heard me." 

"I'm not sure the Governor agrees. More importantly, we don’t."

As McGarrett forcibly attacks the keyboard, Danny slumps back on the couch, arms crossed tightly, bottom lip stuck out in thought. "Huh," he says, chewing over the word slowly, "So that’s how it’s going to be."

Danny, Chin and Kono share a look and Grover's reminded that these four have a shared history from before he joined them. They have a way of silently communicating that he doesn't always understand yet. He can remember how that feels though, that absolute trust built from experience. So when Chin nods and rises from his chair he follows, trusting the cousins to take the lead.

"Danny," he hears McGarrett growl warningly before the door closes behind the three of them. The walls are fairly well sound proofed but not enough to muffle Danny's voice as he cuts his partner off, his Jersey accent becoming thicker as his voice rises.

They head for the safety of Chin's office, the additional sound proofing just enough to make them feel like they're not eavesdropping. They each take a seat, perching nervously like patients in a waiting area.

"He's right you know," Chin offers finally. "We don't have to help him do this."

"Cuz!" Kono's angry response perfectly mirrors Grover's own feelings.

Chin holds up his hands soothingly, his expression annoyingly calm. "Someone had to say it."

"True." Grover lets out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. He's pretty sure the Governor could still put a stop to this if he wanted. There's the matter of public safety for a start. But there's still something about McGarrett’s link to the case that doesn't make sense. And even if the Governor backs out he's not sure the CIA would be so willing to give up.

"All he has to do is say no. The CIA would have to stop the operation here on the islands," Kono points out, again in tune with his thoughts.

"I imagine that's what Danny's trying to get him to do now." Chin glances across to the other office then sighs. "But he's not going to, is he?"

They all know the answer, there's no need to say more. Instead they sink into their individual thoughts. They are brought out of their reverie when McGarrett's door opens and then is slammed shut. Danny appears, his hair ruffled and his face red. "I swear I will-" He's lost for words, his hands filling in the gaps where his mouth fails. At another time Grover knows he'd find the performance funny but right now Danny's anger is fuelled by concern for his friend and he can't mock that. "Coffee. I need coffee." 

Danny's talking again, moving, a pent up ball of frustrated energy. When he disappears from the office, Kono and Chin move to follow him. Chin halts for a moment, looking apologetically at Grover. "Can you-" he asks with a shrug towards Steve's office.

"Sure, don't worry, I got it." He waits for them to disappear before making a move. He's not sure what his role here is - babysitter, jailer, counsellor or just a friend - so he gives himself a second, marshalling his thoughts.

Head in his hands, McGarrett doesn't notice him at first. When he does he jerks up like a puppet on a string, his eyes scanning the office area outside. He blinks, focusing on Grover. The warring emotions he sees there have him softening his approach and he closes the door gently behind him before taking a seat on the couch.

"They've gone for coffee," he explains, sliding along the couch, closer to the door. It's not that he thinks Steve will bolt, or at least he hopes he won't because he has no hope of stopping him. But there's a look of uncertainty in his eyes, a level of anxiety in his posture that makes him want to protect the man in front of him. And right now protecting him means keeping him here where he has his team around him.

For a second he thinks he's getting somewhere. Steve sighs, his shoulders sinks but then suddenly it's like someone's flicking a switch. The shutters come down and he's concentrating on the laptop again.

"It kills him you know, when you do this." He hates saying the words, he knows it's a low blow but he needs to find a way in. "You know that, right?"

He hates himself more as McGarrett flicks a glance at him. His expression is pained. 

He's seeing now why Danny was so upset. Right now he wants to plead with the man in front of him, shake him to make him talk. "You don't have to do this. We can talk to the Governor-"

"Lou. You know I do." Steve's tone is the softest Grover has ever heard it. "It’s the CIA. They knew what they were doing when they got me in that meeting."

Brain scrabbling to understand, he feels his heart sink as he watches McGarrett sit back in his chair, arms outstretched. A grim smile flickers across his face as he waves his hands to indicate the uniform he's wearing. 

When he'd heard that McGarrett had been at Pearl-Hickham for his briefing he'd assumed that was because they wanted to give him a more in-depth briefing. Or maybe they wanted information about the previous operation from him. Neither is really important Grover realises, his anger growing. What's important is that the CIA could have asked for Steve's assistance as Head of Five 0. Instead they've invoked his naval background, put him back in the uniform and dragged him back on the base. Sure, he's still in the reserves but this is one step further and they know it. So does Steve.

The CIA are using his loyalty to the Navy against him to make sure this operation happens.

Grover understands why Danny looked like he wanted to punch someone. “Steve-“

McGarrett ignores him, getting up to put paper in the printer by his desk, effectively ending any conversation by turning his back. Defensive, Grover thinks, revaluating his friend’s behaviour. Well, he’s got a teenage daughter. He understands how this cold shoulder treatment works. Pulling his phone out of his pocket he flicks it over to the Angry Birds app and settles in to wait.

He doesn’t have to wait long as the printer starts spitting out paper, the tray soon filling up. When it finally overspills and the top sheet ends up on the floor he picks it up. He audibly catches his breath.

It’s a travel itinerary for a trip to Maui. And it’s got Renee’s name on it. 

Grabbing the whole stack, he starts flicking through, but he already knows what he’ll find. There’s itineraries for all of them, including Rachel, Charlie and Grace. At 10am tomorrow they are supposed to be on a plane to Maui.

Calming himself with a deep breath he carefully sorts through each page, putting them in four neat piles on the corner of the table, one for each member of the team. McGarrett's still moving around the office, pretending not to watch him. “So this is your plan?” 

Steve is saved from answering by the sound of voices coming back into the office. Danny appears with Chin and Kono in tow, coffee and masaladas in their hands. McGarrett is frozen in the doorway but Danny elbows his way through, pushing the laptop out of the way to make a space for the food. He eyes the stack of paperwork, before exchanging a worried glance with Grover. “So he’s shared his plan with you, huh?”

"Sharing isn’t exactly the word I’d use.”

“Hey, you do know this is my office?”

There’s an edge to McGarrett’s voice that makes Grover look over but Danny’s moving on regardless, checking coffees and shuffling them around the desk. “Yeah, babe. But right now we all need food so come sit down, eat and you can tell us what the real plan is. An Army can’t march on an empty stomach right?” Danny’s pulled out McGarrett’s chair and is making sitting down motions. Behind McGarrett, Chin is bringing in another chair from the outer office, effectively pushing him further into the room and blocking his escape.

It's ‘Navy’ Grover thinks vaguely, not Army, but it says everything about the mood in the room that neither Danny or Steve bait each other about it. But he can see Chin’s influence in Danny’s softer approach and it’s working. McGarrett’s back at his desk and he’s got a coffee in his hand, even if he isn’t drinking it.

Grover’s not sure his stomach can handle a masalada right now but he takes a bite anyway, thankful for the distraction. Beside him he can see Kono doing the same. McGarrett’s staring sightlessly out of the window, his fingers moving restlessly over his coffee cup.

He’s just swallowing the last bite of his cake when Danny leans over to Steve’s desk, using his foot to hook the trash can from underneath. Left-handed he starts scooping up the stack of papers with his name at the top. 

“Danny.” McGarrett’s attention is on his partner, his eyes pleading. 

Danny shakes his head. “We’ve already discussed this.” 

“Just think about it. That’s all I’m asking.”

‘Please’ is the word that hangs unspoken between them and Grover feels his stomach twist in sympathy. He’s never seen McGarrett beg to anyone but he’s pretty close now. Feeling guilty he looks at his own stack of papers. Running is the last thing he wants to do but he can’t risk the lives of his children - and Steve obviously thinks there’s a risk. 

Neither can Danny. Slowly he separates the pages for Grace, Charlie and Rachel. The page with his name on gets scrunched up and thrown in the trash. Kono reaches over for her sheet and deliberately places another masalada on top of it, politely wiping her fingers on her makeshift napkin. 

“Lou?” As he looks up he can feel himself blushing, sure that guilt must be written all over his face. It’s just Chin, pushing the box of masaladas towards him. It looks like his travel itinerary is also now also doubling as a napkin and he follows Chin’s lead before pushing the papers for Renee and the kids safely out of the way of the sugary cakes.

“Eat.” Danny’s offering the box of cakes to his partner. He rejects them with a terse shake of his head but Grover’s pleased to see there’s a spark of life back in Steve’s eyes, even if he still doesn’t look happy. They’d never meant to make this hard for their friend but sometimes he’s too stubborn for his own good. They’re all in on this now, Grover realises, and he’s fine with that. 

How he’s going to get Renee and the kids on the plane tomorrow is another matter but he’ll worry about that later.

_____________________

“Okay. I need to brief you about what happened on this mission.”

The military terminology gets their attention and they all sit forward as Steve spins the laptop round so they can see the screen. Chin had offered to put the information on the main screen but Steve had declined. Grover can see why as McGarrett brings up a screen with a US Navy insignia on it. Grover knows official, restricted access material when he sees it.

Apparently so does Chin who frowns as Steve logs in. “I didn’t know you still had that access.” 

"I didn’t.” 

So the Navy are giving McGarrett access to some additional resources. Grover nods to himself, reassured by the knowledge. Of course a fully armed kick-arse SEAL team as backup would be even better but it’s a start.

"Kandahar in 2004. It was…intense.” Steve’s attention is so focused on the laptop Grover doubts he’s aware he’s rubbing his eyebrow as he speaks. “The Taliban had planned an offensive to gain back the territory they had lost. And it was working. Car bombs, suicide bombers, attacks on our bases almost daily. We were bought in to help identify and neutralise the leaders of the main terrorist cells.”

“Including Nika?” It’s Danny who’s asked the question, his voice soft as if he’s afraid to interrupt. Grover’s glad he asked though. Baker’s briefing had been lacking details.

"We suspected Nika was the mastermind behind the attacks,” Steve explains, bringing up Nika’s face on the screen. Enlarging the image, he pauses as they look at it in turn, giving them a chance to skim read the list of crimes the Taliban leader is accused of. It's long, is all Grover can think, mentally recoiling from the horror the words convey. “Whoever was planning the attacks not only had access to the large amount of men and weapons needed but he had the military intel too. My team had been tracking another terrorist cell for a week when everything went FUBAR.”

Steve trails off. His focus is on the laptop screen but to Grover it’s obvious from his expression that his mind is somewhere else. As one they wait silently, giving their leader some space. Eventually Danny leans over slowly, gradually bringing himself into McGarrett’s personal space until their elbows are nearly touching.

“If you don’t want to tell us everything that’s okay.” 

It’s not, Grover thinks, they need all the information they can get but they can see Steve’s struggling. And if Steve’s struggling there’s a part of him that would rather not know all the details. He’s mentally berating himself for that thought when Steve takes a deep breath and lets it back out with a sigh. 

“It’s standard operating practice when civilians are going into dangerous territory to have an extraction team on standby. And Rosso and his team were potentially high value targets. His meeting with the Afghan government was planned months in advance, including the contingency plans in case anything went wrong."

“But I’m guessing that’s not what happened?”

“No.” He taps on the keys and a new image appears this time of a man and woman, their faces drawn and mud-stained. “Drs Gaia Nielsen and Henri Purcell worked for Doctors Without Borders. They were kidnapped the week before Rosso arrived for the talks. It was never proven but it was suspected that Nika was behind the kidnapping. Rosso’s extraction team was sent in to rescue them instead.”

Danny’s frowning and Grover shares his confusion. “There was no one else they could send?"

Finally bringing his eyes up to meet his partner’s, McGarrett shakes his head. “Like I said, it was intense. Nika held all the cards, he had us chasing our tails. We were running missions every day. When Rosso was kidnapped the following week my team was the closest. So we went in.”

They all know what the next question needs to be. Grover finds himself staring at his empty coffee cup, at the floor, anywhere but at McGarrett. Danny shifts awkwardly on his chair, his body instinctively leaning towards his partner in support. “Babe, Agent Baker said there were casualties, that the mission was...‘messy’. What did he mean?” 

“Messy?” McGarrett’s sharp bark of laughter has no humour in it. “Yeah, he would say that. It was messy.” He’s radiating anger, his hands curling into tight fists as he looks away. "There were four of us on my team, sixteen people in total on the extraction team," he offers finally, his body slowly unfolding as he takes several deep breaths. "It's something we'd trained for, we had standard procedures in place. We knew it would be a tough one but we'd done it before. We could handle it."

Part of Grover wants to ask about those previous missions, to find out more about the man in front of him, but Steve's still stretched taut as a wire. He leaves it to Danny to lean forward, to nudge his friend again. It's like Danny's drawing away the anger, he realises. 

It's what they always do for each other.

"Only four, babe? That's a small team," Danny asks as Steve sits back in his chair again and visibly forces himself to relax.

“I don't know, we did just fine with four if I remember correctly." Chin's tone is light as he flashes a grin in his direction, "No offence intended, Lou."

He shrugs back in return, grateful to Chin as Steve's lips quirk up in a ghost of a smile. "None taken."

"There were four teams in total," Steve clarifies, bringing up another set of pictures up on the screen. "The other teams got us access to the compound and secured the perimeter. My team went in and got Rosso."

The screen flicks over to bring up four pictures of men dressed in BDUs. Posed identically, they're all wearing beards in different stage of growth, identical sunglasses and automatic weapons held tight across their chests. 

"Is that you?" Kono's tone is incredulous and Grover understands why. If he thought Steve looked leaner and more remote in his service dress uniform it's nothing compared to what he looks like in this picture. His hair's longer, falling over his ears. The length only serves to emphasise the gauntness of his face. The other men on the screen don't look any better.

Not for the first time Grover seriously questions his friend's definition of the word 'intense'.

Danny's transfixed by the picture, his jaw working as he stares at the screen. Kono and Chin are frowning, their glances flicking hesitantly between the screen and McGarrett who is pointedly not meeting their eyes. Sometimes, Grover reflects, it would be good if their friend was as oblivious to the depth of their attachment to him as they often accuse him of being. Giving them this glimpse into his previous life is hurting Steve as much as it was Danny earlier.

Clearing his throat, McGarrett introduces them to the men on the screen. "Lieutenant Mike O'Neill, Petty Officer First Class Eduardo Almeida, Chief Petty Officer Luke Brown. My team."

The screen changes again and now they’re looking at a family compound in Afghanistan, so similar to many that’s Grover’s seen featured in news reports. “The other teams secured the perimeter. We entered the compound and started to clear it.” McGarrett’s voice is flat, clinical, like he’s delivering a mission report. The tale tell rub of the eyebrow is back though. It’s enough for Danny to deliver another coaxing nudge. 

“It was chaos. It always is. People screaming, confusion, running about. You focus, go through the drills, clear the compound room by room.” It’s something they’ve seen Steve do hundreds of times, Grover realises with a start. But his imagination transports him into the compound, adds in the sense of extreme danger, the spike of adrenaline, the red hot heat and the noise. 

Leading a SWAT team was mentally gruelling. What Steve’s describing- it’s a place he never wants to be in real life. 

“Our intel was bad.” Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, eyes unfocused, it’s obvious McGarrett is replaying the incident in his mind. “We’d been told there was only a small group of Taliban inside. They’d been staying mobile, they were moving Rosso every day. When we got in there most of the occupants were women and children.” 

“So who were they? People who lived in the compound? Or more hostages?” Kono asks.

Steve shrugs, clinically matter of fact and Grover feels a shiver go down his spine. “I was asked that at the inquiry. I told them that I thought that at least some of them were families from the compound being held against their will.”

“Human shields.” Danny slumps as Steve nods in reply. He turns away, the anger they are all feeling evident on his face.

“So where was the intel from?” It’s Chin, interrogating the data for further details, exuding calm like always.

Steve considers Chin question with a frown. “Pakistani intelligence, CIA too. ONI briefed us. But Nika was always one step ahead of us. ONI suspected there was a leak somewhere, probably in the ISI, but they couldn’t prove it.”

“But they sent you in anyway?”

McGarrett raises an eyebrow at his partner’s disbelieving tone. “It’s all about managing risk, Danny. The inquiry afterwards found that all the proper procedures had been followed.”

“Procedures? “ Grover shakes his head as McGarrett winces, realising his mistake too late. Danny’s already angry on his partner’s behalf and now he’s given him more ammunition. 

“Danny—“

“Procedures? And why the hell was there an inquiry? They sent you in with—“

“Stop. Just stop, alright?” Like a policeman directing traffic Steve’s got his hand in the air. Exasperated with his partner he might be but Grover doesn’t miss the look of concern he throws his way. “They had to okay? There were casualties. Fatalities.” Pushing up from his seat, he heads for the window, turning his back to the room.

“Steve…”

Turning his head he looks back at his partner. The look of desolation on his face makes Grover catch his breath. “There were fatalities. We were clearing the ground floor but there were people everywhere. Almeida went out in front of me, only a couple of paces but I lost sight of him. Normally we’d stop, regroup, but then there was gunfire.” Turning back to the window, his voice drops as he loses himself in the memories. “It could only have been a minute, no more, but all I could hear was screaming. By the time I got there Ed was bleeding out."

Grover’s not surprised when it’s Danny who gets up to join his partner by the window. “What happened next?"

“Rosso was in there. He’d been beaten badly, his left femur was fractured in two places. Luke grabbed him, dragged him out, radioed for backup. It was a mess. Such a fucking mess, Danny.” Steve’s sharp inhale cuts through the silence. Grover’s not even sure Steve is aware of anyone apart from Danny. “The screaming was so loud I couldn’t hear the comms. There were dead women and children in there. Mick and I were just trying to keep Ed alive long enough to get him to a medic. By the time we got out of the compound the backup teams had engaged more hostiles in a fire fight and we were taking casualties. It was an ambush. And all the time Rosso kept saying Ed had killed them.”

“He said Eduardo had killed the people in the room? Not Nika’s men?” Danny’s looking at the rest of the team now, the shock he’s feeling clear on his face, but Grover doesn’t know what to offer him. There were civilians in there, women and children. Nika or one of his men would have been first on his list too. Steve McGarrett trains his teams better than that.

“Nika wasn't there.” Steve turns to face them, his expression a study in bitterness. “Rosso said someone had called to warn them just before the raid started.”

“So Nika left…leaving Rosso, his only asset, behind?”

McGarrett’s shrug is eloquent. “It doesn’t make sense, does it? I told the inquiry that too.”

Chin leans forward, his expression thoughtful as he catches McGarrett’s eye. “So, Nika's gone, Rosso’s left in there with the women and children. Why didn’t he just come out when the raid started?”

“Fear?” Grover hears himself ask. He’s seen people do some strange things in situations like that. Even the most intelligent people start making stupid decisions when blinded with fear.

“What did Rosso say at the inquiry?" Danny follows his friend as he goes back to his desk, leaning on the back of his chair as he boots up the laptop again.

“He wasn't at the inquiry. In was still in the hospital so he was interviewed there. He said he was trying to protect Nika’s brother and daughter." McGarrett brings their faces up on screen. There's a clear family resemblance between Nika and his brother and they look like they're a similar age, in their fifties. Nika's daughter looks like she's in her early 20's, her bright smile a startling contrast to the scowling faces of her uncle and father. "He said they were in the compound with him and tried to help him. When Nika found out he locked them in the room together. Rosso claimed that when the raid stared Nika's brother and daughter tried to surrender but the brother panicked and shot Ed. And in the confusion Ed opened fire, shooting him, the daughter and the other people in the room."

Danny starts pacing, his posture screaming confusion. "Assuming the daughter and brother did try to help - which I've gotta say makes no sense - why take a risk like that? Rosso wasn't just some guy they'd met at a bar. He was the enemy. And what about the other women and children in the room? A Navy SEAL wouldn't make that kind of mistake. Please tell me someone questioned his statement?"

Tiredly McGarrett rubs his hands over his face. "He was Deputy Secretary of State. And as far as the public were aware he hadn't been held hostage, he'd just survived a plane crash. He was a hero. Everyone was more busy trying to keep everything under wraps." Leaning back, he pushes the laptop away with disgust. "I'm not sure they even wanted to know what really happened."

McGarrett falls silently, obviously lost in his memories again. How do you pick yourself up from something like that Grover wonders, overwhelmed with sympathy for his friend. He and Steve have shared their experiences with each other but he'd always suspected they'd only scratched the surface.

"But there's evidence, right?" Grover wants to bite back the words, to apologise for breaking the silence but it's the policeman in him that can't just let this go. "Shell casings, recordings of your communications." Kono's nodding in agreement so he pushes on, taking a deep breath, aware of how much his words might hurt. "There must have been post-mortems? The inquiry must have asked to see everything?"

He watches Danny's frown grow as his partner shakes his head. "The only thing we were focused on was getting Ed out of there. They sent in another crew to clean up later. The CIA took everything, they told the inquiry it was classified. After Ed died...we questioned it. But as soon as we got back to base they sent us Stateside for four weeks R&R." 

When McGarrett speaks again his voice is full of regret. "There was Ed's funeral, the inquiry and then we were deployed again." With another deep sigh he looks at them in turn. "We asked okay? But it was clear they weren't giving us any answers." 

You were exhausted, grieving for your friend. And not everything that goes wrong is your responsibility are the words Grover really wants to say but instead he gets to the crux of the matter. "Do you think Eduardo killed them all?"

"No!" McGarrett's head shoots up, his eyes flashing with rage.

Danny stands to attention, determination written on his face. "Okay, so we've got a new case to investigate. Who shot Petty Office First Class Eduardo Almeida and the other people in that room."

"No. You don't know how dangerous this is." McGarrett's looking daggers at his partner, his lips pursed in an angry white line. Despite himself Grover leans back, trying to get out of the line of fire. "There was a cover up. The CIA are involved. You can't just-"

"Don't insult us babe," Danny admonishes, but his hand on McGarrett's shoulder squeezes gently, taking the sting out of the words. "We know. But we're here. And if we have to sit and wait for Nika to use us for target practice then at least we can find out what really happened to your friend, okay?

McGarrett really wants it, Grover can tell. The anger's still there in his expression but it's no longer aimed at them. This is an anger that's been smouldering for a very long time. For a second he worries what will happen if it's unleashed. Fear's not the only emotion that causes people to make bad decisions.

"The CIA won't give us access to the evidence, we tried that before--" 

Danny sits back on the couch, a feral grin on his face. "We don't need the CIA. We'll have the prime witness - Rosso."


	3. Chapter 3

Waiting at the airport parking lot almost forty-eight hours later, Grover finally allows himself a moment to reflect. Ever since McGarrett had finally agreed to let them help him they’d been on the move non-stop. He’s always admired the younger man’s drive, his ability to lead, but this time it’s like he’s possessed. And they’re all feeding off his tightly wound anger and energy.

Renee had noticed it instantly.

With hindsight he realises he should have pulled it back a bit. Buzzing, he’d gone home to tell her about the plans to send her and the kids to Maui. Meeting him on the lanai she’d taken one look at his face and stormed back into the house. 

There had been a lot of yelling after that.

Grimacing, he shifts uneasily in his seat. He hadn’t actually outright lied to her but he hadn’t actually told her all the truth. ‘Hey Honey, we’re going to fight the Taliban’ was always going to be a tough one to sell. Add to that the fact that it hadn’t really sunk in at that point that yes, that really was what they were planning to do and he’d had to keep the argument simple otherwise he knew he would have folded and told Renee everything. And seeing as this case (or mission as Steve kept describing it) was top secret then folding wasn’t an option.

She’d agreed – eventually. It had taken some serious talking though to stop her from calling Steve for an explanation. He had no doubt Steve would have been there in a shot to back him up but the man had enough on his plate without having to deal with the gorgeous whirlwind that was his wife when she was angry.

By the time they’d made it the airport the next day she was keeping a brave face in front of the kids. But he could see the worry in her eyes, could feel the way she hugged him just a second too long as they said goodbye. Over her shoulder he could see Rachel was wearing the same expression as she spoke to Danny. 

Maybe having Steve there might have reassured them. But he’d disappeared the evening before, claiming he had some errands to run. They’d let him go – reluctantly. None of them had spoken about it but Grover suspected he wasn’t the only one who was hoping that McGarrett still had a few more tricks up his sleeve.

Now it’s twenty-four hours later and he’s back at the airport waiting for Rosso and his wife to arrive. His earpiece crackles to life and he hears Danny’s familiar sigh.

“A cab? Steve really thinks Rosso is gonna be happy that we sent a cab to collect him from the airport?”

It’s an argument they’ve been having since the day before. Grover shakes his head but he understands that this is Danny’s way of dealing with the tension. “Let’s just follow Steve’s plan. The CIA want Nika to think Rosso’s protection has been lowered. And Steve doesn’t think Nika would be stupid enough to risk himself by taking Rosso out so publicly. So Rosso should be safe on the cab ride.”

“Tell that to that poor unsuspecting schmuck of a cab driver.”

The poor unsuspecting schmuck that Steve has paid off is currently leaning against the side of his cab which is parked in the passenger pick-up area. Dressed in a frayed t-shirt and boardies, a bright red baseball cap worn in reverse, he’s a great advert for the surf industry in Hawaii. Grover’s pretty sure Rosso’s never had a chauffeur like him before.

Chin’s voice breaks the silence. “They are here guys.”

They’d agreed that McGarrett meeting them at the airport was too overt. And McGarrett’s obvious dislike of the ex-Deputy Secretary of State meant that he wasn’t the best person for the job anyway, no matter how professional he could be. Danny had ruled himself out for the same reason. So they’ve left it to Chin to introduce them to the Hawaiian principle of aloha. 

Grover stretches and pulls himself up in his seat as Rosso and his wife appears. The politician looks older than he does in the CIA’s pictures. His dark, slicked back hair has more grey running through it, making him look older than his fifty nine years. Leaning heavily on a cane, he taps it impatiently as he waits for Chin to open the taxi door for him. His wife, Grover suspects, has recently spent some time in a high-end hair salon. Blond highlights make her look much younger. They are both dressed in expensively tailored resort wear. For two people who are supposed to be blending in with the other tourists they are failing badly, Grover reflects. 

He waits for the taxi to drive past him before starting the engine and pulling out to follow. As they leave the airport he spots Danny’s Camaro slot in behind him as they head towards the expensive beachside residential area that the Rossos will be staying in. McGarrett had given them a tour of the vacation property the day before. Lent to the Rossos by a friend in Washington, the opulence of the property had made Grover gnash his teeth but he’d been grateful to discover that the owner’s Washington-bred paranoia meant the property had a top of the range security system.

McGarrett might have seemed unconcerned about the cab journey but he can still remember his friend’s look of panic when he’d realised that his team were determined to help him with this mission. So he’s hyper vigilant as they get closer to the house. 

One of the first things he learnt living in Hawaii was how much time he would have to spend in traffic. So when they first start to slow on the way into a tunnel he just tells himself that’s normal. The cab’s still a couple of cars in front of him and the Camaro is hugging his tail. But when the cab starts weaving through the lanes he feels his anxiety levels go upwards – and they shoot sky high when the radio goes dead.

He knows he’s not imaging the danger as he hears the Camaro’s engine rev up behind him. In his mirror he can see Danny trying to pull out of his lane but the traffic is stacked as they crawl into the tunnel. In the half-darkness he can see the cab is four cars in front of him. They’d agreed not to use sirens unless it was an emergency but his gut is telling him that’s exactly what this is. As they all shuffle forward and daylight starts to appear again he sucks in a deep breath and gets ready to backup Chin. 

The deep thud, thud, thud of a motorbike engine has him looking in his mirror again. He licks his lips nervously as it weaves through the traffic, the engine sound reverberating through the tunnel. It’s single headlight catches his mirror, making him flinch and look away. Flicking open the strap on his holster he flexes his fingers on the handgrip of his gun as the motorbike draws parallel with him. The rider’s wearing a dark helmet, t-shirt and jeans and his eyes are obscured by sunglasses, making it impossible to identify him.  
In a blink they’re out of the tunnel and the world lights up. The biker is in front of him and he breathes a sigh of relief: now he can see Steve’s familiar ink poking out of the bottom of the rider’s sleeves. He watches as McGarrett smoothly weaves through the traffic before sharply pulling in front of the cab. The aggressive move earns him a beep of the horn and a hand signal from the cab driver. McGarrett replies with a gloved finger of his own before pulling away.

“Next time I’m picking the cab driver.”

Danny’s angry voice over the now-working radio has Grover grunting in agreement. Sure, he understands why the cab driver had been impatient. But he’d been seconds from being shot by an angry SEAL.

His heart is still thudding, his anxiety level still high, as the road drops down towards the coast line. They are in the expensive residential area now, the houses spaced a polite distance apart. During their final briefing that morning Steve had been convinced that Nika wouldn’t strike here. It was his intelligence and ability to manipulate people that made him dangerous, Steve had reminded them. Anyone else would have just arranged for Rosso to fall victim to a car bomb in Afghanistan. 

The thought sends a shiver down his spine. McGarrett had delivered his verdict in a cold, impartial tone. The khaki uniform from the day before had been replaced by the normal tee and cargo pants but the Navy version of Steve was still with them.

H50h50h50h50h50h50h50

“Well that was…interesting.” Grover keeps his voice low as behind him Kono escorts their guests into the house. He catches a glimpse of the cab driver’s grinning face as he wheel spins his way back up the driveway in a cloud of dust and gravel. The electric gates close behind him and they collectively blow out a sigh of relief.

Beside him Chin’s chuckling. “Boy that was close…”

Danny shakes his head at both of them. “This is insane. What are we doing?”

What we are doing now is moving all these suitcases, Grover thinks, surveying the scene in front of them. Apparently the Rossos are used to having hired help – or maybe they’re just plain lazy. Either way their suitcases are stacked on the front steps, slowly being fried in the midday sun. 

With a groan of protest Danny lifts the top two cases and heads inside. “Nice of McGarrett to give us a hand—“ Chin rolls his eyes then follow’s Danny’s lead.

He stays outside for a few minutes listening for the thudding noise of the motorbike. It’s quiet though. Hopefully it’ll stay like that he thinks vaguely as he wonders where Steve has gone. They’d agreed that he’d be the rear guard for this part of the mission but he’d been surprised when the motorbike had peeled off down a side road before they’d got to the house.

Loud voices from inside the house draw his attention and he forgets about his friend for the moment and heads inside. All is not well within the Rosso marriage Grover realises instantly as the scene in front of him unfolds.

Hands on hips, Mrs Rosso (Angelique, he reminds himself) is standing in the living room, surveying the house they are going to be staying in. Grover had thought it luxurious but Angelique looks ready to disagree. “I thought you said we were staying at The Modern, Stanley.”

Standing between the warring couple Kono is obviously struggling with her role as the welcoming committee. He feels his heart sinks as Rosso’s expression becomes progressively guiltier. It’s obvious he’s got his wife to join him under force pretences. 

“Okay, your room’s just up here on the left,” Danny cuts in, scything his way through them with a suitcase tucked under each arm. “Up here on the right is the kitchen and then you’ve got—“ Danny disappears round the corner like the Pied Piper, with the Rossos grudingly in tow. They follow with the rest of the luggage, leaving everything just inside their room, filing out with Danny. The atmosphere is toxic as they close the door on the couple, the silence speaking volumes.

“Wish we had cameras in that room,” he whispers as they make it back to the main hall. Kono’s look of horror says it all and he smiles. “Okay, maybe I don’t. But I’m starting to think it’s good we’ve got camera’s everywhere else.”

Heading to the opposite wing of the house they follow Chin to the security room in the house. Chin’s eyes had lit up the day before when McGarrett first showed it to them. It rivalled the best equipment that Five-0 had.

To his relief one of the cameras shows McGarrett pulling up to the gates on his motorbike. Chin taps some keys and the gates swing open. On another screen they can see the Rossos coming out of their room, their expressions grim. Beside him, Danny is studying the screens, his expression mulish. Sensing he wasn’t going to get any help with the Rossos there he gives Kono a pleading look. 

“Fine,” she agreed, reluctantly. “But you’ve got a lot more experience of being married than me. You’re doing the couples counselling.”

The reminder of Renee and the kids was sobering. There were here for a reason and the sooner they solved the mystery the sooner he’d get his family back home.

On the screen now he can see McGarrett looking up at the camera outside by the kitchen door. Without his sunglasses on it’s clear how tired he is, even though it’s only half way through the day. As Chin buzzes him in Danny huffs impatiently. He’s a bundle of nervous energy, bouncing up and down on his toes. Taking that as his cue to leave Grover waves Kono in the direction of the living room.

Angelique’s sitting on the couch, legs politely crossed at the ankles. Poker faced, Grover thinks, she’s obviously used to projecting a certain imagine to order. “Stanley’s explained to me that we are staying here for security reasons, that it will be safer.”

It’s like she’s announcing the sky is blue or that grass is green. There’s no hint of doubt there and she doesn’t even glance sideways at her husband who is slowing moving round the room, checking out the book shelves covering the walls. For a second he wonders what Renee would do in that situation and he bites back a smile. He couldn’t imagine being married to a woman who gave in as easily as this.

“We haven’t been introduced. I’m Stanley Rosso.” Rosso has glided into their space, moving surprisingly smoothly despite the cane. He has his hand out, a welcoming smile on his face. His whole demeanour screams ‘politician’.

“Captain Lou Grover. Officer Kono Kalakaua.”

Rosso frowns although his smile doesn’t falter. “If you don’t mind me saying so you don’t look like our usual CIA agents.” He’s still got a grip on Kono’s hand Grover notes with an inward scowl of his own. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Angelique watching them and it’s clear she’s unhappy. Suddenly her husband only has eyes for one woman in the room and it’s not his wife.

“That’s because they’re not. We’re Five-O.” Not for the first time Grover understands why Danny wants to put a collar and bell on their leader. Steve’s come into the room behind them, filling the doorway with his bulk. In three strides he’s across the room, inserting himself between Kono and Rosso.

Rosso’s eyes widen with recognition, his face draining of blood. Behind him Angelique has got to her feet, her gaze anxiously switching between the two men.

Grover’s pretty sure that if someone rescued him from the Taliban he’d remember them too. But they’d all assumed that the CIA would have filled in Rosso and his wife on what would happen when they got to Hawaii anyway. The fact that they haven’t is setting off very loud warning bells in his head. It seems like Steve and Kono are hearing clanging noises too, judging by their confused expressions.

It’s Angelique who shatters the moment. “You’re McGarrett. I saw you at the inquiry. It’s your fault Stanley was injured,” she spits out, joining her husband, “it’s your fault we’re here at all. If you’d done your job and killed that bastard we wouldn’t have spent years—“

“It’s Lieutenant Commander McGarrett,” Kono cuts in, emphasising the title. “And you need to calm down so we can explain to you what’s happening—“

“No. We’re not staying. I heard what happened last time.” She’s got a finger in Steve’s chest, the image of a calm and composed politician’s wife a distant memory. His friend is taking the verbal abuse silently but he can see his jaw working. “This man isn’t competent. One of his men killed innocent women and children and he let him—“ 

“Okay, that’s it.” Grover’s moving before he even realises himself, gently but firmly moving Angelique back towards the couch. He can feel her arm trembling under his hand. Her anger is genuine, not another act. So when she pulls away from him, heading for her room, he lets her go.

Looking back over his shoulder he can see McGarrett watching her, his eyes full of sadness. When his gaze switches to Rosso though his eyes darken with anger. “Just so we understand each other – we didn’t ask for this job. I don’t know what game the CIA are playing but we will do everything to keep you and your wife safe. But my team will be treated with respect and you will do as you are told. Do you understand?” 

Rosso rouses himself, licking his lips nervously. “And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll shoot you myself.”

From anyone else that might be false bravado, Grover thinks. But Steve’s turning, leaving, his shoulders rigid with anger, his fingers curled in tight fists. He’s never seen the younger man so furious and a shiver runs down his spine.

So when Rosso lets out a huff of laughter he has to stop himself from grabbing him. “You think that’s funny?”

Limping over to the couch he lets out another huff before sitting down. “Believe me Captain Grover, from where I’m sitting this is anything but funny. I have a terrorist targeting me and the CIA instead of giving me more protection have sent us to this island to be guarded by the local police force—“ He raises his hand as Kono opens her mouth to protest. “Don’t misunderstand me, I’m very grateful you’re here,” he continues, the charming smile back on his face, “but catching criminals isn’t the same as catching an international terrorist. Perhaps I should just let the Commander shoot me and you can all go home.”

Grover imagines that back in the security room Danny is offering to do just that. Rosso is playing the sympathy card and it grates badly on his nerves.

“It must have been hard, recovering from your experience in Afghanistan then coming home to find out your life was still threatened.” Kono’s sitting down beside Rosso, her expression sympathetic as she looks at his cane. “I blew my knee out surfing. I know how much it sucks to be injured.”

Grover watches silently, admiring his friend’s technique as Rosso responds, leaning towards Kono, his shoulders slumping as he sighs. “It’s been harder on Angelique. I knew what I signed up for, she never asked for any of this.” For a split second Grover actually feels sorry for him. “I’m sorry she said those things about the Commander. I was there when his friend died, I know…I know what a difficult time that was. But she was at the inquiry and she heard my evidence. It’s not easy hearing that, knowing someone you love has suffered because of someone’s mistake.”

It occurs to Grover that Steve can’t still be in the house and Chin must be restraining Danny otherwise at least one of them would be back in the room right now. He’s barely managing to contain himself. Kono on the other hand is demonstrating just what a good cop she is. Nodding in sympathy she doesn’t flinch when Rosso puts his hand on her knee. “Seeing McGarrett here was a big shock for us,” he continues, his voice shaking. “It’s…it’s brought it all back.”

Grover knows he might feel sorry for him if it wasn’t for the way he’s behaving towards Kono. Or for the effect his reappearance is having on Steve. Quashing his fatherly instincts which are screaming at him to protect Kono, he pulls up a chair instead, deliberately putting himself in Rosso’s line of sight. “You said you thought the CIA were going to give you more protection. Why did they say they were sending you to Hawaii?”

Reluctantly Rosso meets his eyes. “They said that Nika was getting too close. Moving us here would give us more protection while they neutralised him. I had no reason not to believe him. Baker has never lied to us before.” 

“Agent Baker?”

“You know him?”

“We’ve…met him. Kind of,” Kono adds with a grimace, “and he’s been telling us all different versions of the truth.”

To Grover’s relief Rosso finally pulls away from Kono. “He didn’t tell us McGarrett would be here,” he offers, his tone thoughtful. “Why are you here and not the CIA?”

“Maybe because they needed someone with experience in hunting international terrorists and that would be McGarrett,” he hears himself answering, letting some of his frustration creep through. There’s something off about Rosso’s behaviour and it’s bugging him. He doesn’t get a chance to examine that thought as Rosso struggles to his feet and heads for his room, effectively dismissing them. “I need to check on my wife, I’m sure you understand.”

No, I don’t understand, I don’t understand at all, Grover thinks. He’s pretty sure Kono doesn’t either as she shrugs but he keeps his thoughts to himself as he follows her to the security room. They barely get the door shut behind them before Danny’s talking at them. “He’s lying.”

“You think?” Grover raises an eyebrow as he notices they’re missing one of their team.

“Steve’s checking the perimeter,” Chin explains as Danny mutters, “Again.”

“Damn.” Once in a while he wishes he had hair so he’d have something to run his fingers through. Instead he settles for rubbing his bald head. “Am I the only one who thinks Rosso’s behaviour is damn weird?”

“Apart from the way he came on to Kono?” Chin snaps, his expression furious. It only softens slightly as Kono slings an arm across his shoulder and pulls him in for a hug. “I’m a big girl. I can handle it.” 

Grover flashes them a sympathetic smile. “Now maybe I’m going soft in my old age but Angelique, she was scared, and I don’t think she was faking it.”

“Then she’s an intelligent woman. I’m scared and I’m not even the target.” Danny’s up and moving, thinking with hands, pausing only briefly as he works through his thoughts. “Did you see the way he controlled that whole conversation? She really believed all that bullshit about Steve’s team, he didn’t have to say a thing. Maybe she is lying but if she is she’s a very good actor. Rosso though…”

“…is lying through his teeth,” Kono continues, picking up his line of thought. “After what we told him about the CIA lying to him he should be terrified. Yes, he’s nervous, but he was still calm enough to put on that act for me.”

With a deep sigh, Chin shares his thoughts. “I hate to say this but he did used to be the Deputy Secretary of State. He’s going to be used to being in tough situations…”

“Then why was he so scared of McGarrett?” 

“Good question, Lou.” Chewing on his bottom lip, Danny considers the question he’s just blurted out. It’s true though, he realises with sudden clarity. In that moment when McGarrett had appeared, that had been the only time they’d seen the real Rosso. “Steve scares the hell out of me most days but I’ve never seen him have that reaction on anyone unless—“

“—they think they’ve been caught doing something wrong.” They all nod at his conclusion but he can see the disappointment written on their faces. It doesn’t feel like they’ve achieved anything, they haven’t found the answer that McGarrett needs. And if Rosso keeps using the same avoidance tactics every time they ask him a difficult question they could be in for a long wait. 

And they’ve still got Nika to worry about.

H50h50h50h50h50h50h50

He shares his thoughts with McGarrett when he returns, Chin, Kono and Danny chipping in with their own views as he recaps what happened after Steve left. After he finishes they all wait silently for their leader to speak.

“So we we’ve learnt nothing,” Steve offers finally, his expression grim.

“You’re not helping, you know that don’t you, Buddy?” Danny replies but there’s no heat in his words. It’s obvious how exhausted McGarrett is. 

Grover knows he’s not feeling much better, the initial adrenaline of planning this mission having long ago worn off. Beside him Chin and Danny share a look, Danny huffing loudly as they come to an unspoken decision. “Okay, what do you want us to do now?” On a normal day the question would be superfluous, Grover thinks. Steve is usually the one taking the lead but right now he’s deep in thought, mindlessly twirling his cell phone through his fingers . “Babe? Who you been talking to?”

“I was reaching out to some contacts, see if we can speak to Agent Baker again.” Navy Steve is back judging by his neutral tone. 

“You don’t know how to contact him?” Danny shoots back, his surprise evident. When Steve looks away, his expression closed, Grover feels his heart sink. Rosso isn’t the only one who’s good at diversionary tactics when a conversation gets too tough. “I’ll take that as a no then.”

As his partner paces away, his frustration evident, McGarrett turns back to them again. “Lou’s right. We’ve still got Nika to worry about. Danny and Lou, you take the first watch. Kono and Chin, you go and get some rest.”

“And you?” Kono’s standing next to McGarrett, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. “When are you going to get some rest?”

“I’ll get some rest. I will,” he insists when she pulls a face. She doesn’t look convinced but she gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze before she leaves, Chin close behind her. When Danny announces he’s going next door to call Grace, Charlie and Rachel it means he’s left alone with McGarrett.

They don’t speak. McGarrett is engrossed with the CCTV screens (or that’s what he wants him to think, Grover suspects.) In the background he can hear Danny speaking, probably to Charlie judging by the exaggerated noises of encouragement that Danny is making. Grover smiles to himself, remembering a time when he used to speak to his children like that, loving the way they used to hang off his every word. Now they’re teenagers it’s fair to say their reaction isn’t the same anymore.

“Have you spoken to Renee and the kids?”

McGarrett’s not looking at him so he takes the hint, keeping it casual rather than voicing the questions he’s dying to ask. Choosing not to tell Steve about the concerned texts he's been getting from Renee every thirty minutes, instead he thumbs through the photos the kids have been sending him: sitting by the pool with mock cocktails in their hands it's obvious they're having a great time. "You are their new favourite friend," he explains with a grin. "You got them out of school."

Steve's lips flick up in a ghost of a smile but his attention is back on the screens. In the background he can still hear Danny but now he's got his 'Monkey' voice on. He's talking to his beloved Grace.

"When he and I first met all I was looking for was someone to help me find Hesse." McGarrett's also looking in the direction of Danny's voice, his expression distant. "When you're a SEAL you know your men have families but it's separate, you know? That's how you get the job done." He blinks, focusing, and Grover finds himself blinking back at the emotion in his friend's eyes. "Meeting Danny was..."

"A revelation?" he offers softly.

McGarrett's answering laugh is a welcome sound. "Yeah, you could say that. My Dad, he kept everything separate. Or at least I thought he did," he corrects himself with a sigh. Rubbing his face tiredly, it's obviously he's struggling to explain. "My Dad was old School. The first day I met Danny he had a pink rabbit in his car."

He runs the words through his brain, checking he hasn't misheard. "A pink rabbit? A real live pink rabbit?"

"No, no, no." Steve's laughing again and it makes him smile in return. "It was a stuffed toy. Huge," he continues, spreading his hands wide to demonstrate. "Man, it was almost as big as him."

They both throw guilty looks in the direction of Danny's voice as if they're expecting him to appear. Once he's sure they're safe he asks the obvious question: "Why?"

"Why did he have in the car? I guess it was a present for Gracie. He gave it away though." Grover feels his previously good mood disappear when Steve frowns then shakes his head, his attention going back to the CCTV screens. "I never asked him why. I was too focused on everything else."

"Maybe it wasn't important." McGarrett's answering glare tells him how much he doesn't believe that statement. "Maybe you had more important things to worry about." He's heard the stories about how the team was brought together but they are just the stories. They don't relay the emotional toll or pressure.

"I've never asked him if he wanted to stay." Steve's looking in Danny's direction again, a look of guilt briefly flicking across his face. "I just charged in and he came along."

"And he didn't argue?" It's an attempt at levity, to lift the weight from his friend's slumped shoulders but it doesn't work. "He can leave whenever he wants to," he offers instead. "Any of us can."

It's meant to be reassuring, to remind him that they are here of their own free will, they are his team. What he doesn't expect it to cause is panic. It's not outright screaming panic - this is Steve McGarrett after all. But it's there's in his eyes just for a moment and then suddenly it's quashed, the shutters slamming down.

"Steve..."

"It's fine." The laptop which Grover is starting to hate the sight of has reappeared from under the desk and Steve is pressing buttons, waiting for it to boot up.

He watches him for a moment, debating his next move. Steve probably wants him to leave but he's got a horrible suspicion what's bothering his friend and it needs to be brought out in the open before it festers. "We don't believe what they said about you, about your team," he offers into the oppressive silence. "You do know that right?"

McGarrett turns his attention back to the screens, only the tell-tale bob of his adam’s apple giving his emotions away.

He’s saved from saying anything else when Danny reappears, his cell phone still in his hand. Studying Steve he frowns then switches his gaze in his direction. His expression promises Grover that there’s going to be lots of questions later.

“They’re fine, before you ask,“ Danny says as McGarrett opens his mouth to speak. Holding up the phone he shows a picture of Grace and Charlie on a beach. “See, everyone’s fine. Now you can go and get some rest.” Danny reaches over and flips down the cover of the laptop. The click as it shuts sounds loud to Grover but it’s probably because he’s holding his breath. 

Danny’s not going to be denied and he’s got his hand on his partner’s shoulder. Too much, Grover thinks, but it’s working: McGarrett’s finally moving, his expression mulish. “Go and work out whatever ninja plans you’ve got while you’re horizontial. Lou and I will come get you if anything changes.” 

“Nag, nag, nag,” Steve grumbles, stifling a yawn as he disappears out of the door.

“Damn right, babe.” Danny waits, listening until he hears a door click shut. Letting out a long breath he runs his fingers through his hair as he slumps down in a chair. 

Grover lets out a long breath of his own. “At least he didn't take the damn laptop.”

“Don’t get too excited. He's still got his phone.”

H50h50h50h50h50h50h50

He entertains himself for a while imaging how the four of them could get the phone off Steve and dismisses his ideas just as quickly. As sure as he is that Kono would love the challenge of getting McGarrett into a choke hold one of the first things he’d learnt in SWAT was that sometimes you just have to pick which battles to fight. 

Stakeouts have never been a high point in his career and this one is no different. Boredom is a real challenge so he gets up at regular intervals, trying not to wince as his joints pop loudly. Leaving Danny to monitor the alarms and CCTV he checks all the windows and doors, peering through the curtains occasionally. It’s just getting dark so he can’t even see to the perimeter wall but he knows McGarrett’s planned for that too and in an emergency they’ll be able to operate outside.

Pausing outside the Rosso’s’ room he knocks twice and waits. Eventually he hears the tap, tap, tap of Rosso’s cane and the door opens slowly. Rosso’s face appears around the door and over his shoulder he can see Angelique sitting on the bed, her face illuminated by the light from their TV. This is the third time he’s done this in as many hours and unlike the previous two times Rosso’s expression makes it clear that he’s not in a talkative mood. 

Part of him is relieved when Rosso just nods and closes the door in his face. He really doesn’t want to make friends with the guy. In fact the opposite is probably true. 

“They still alive?” is the first thing Danny asks him when he gets back to the security room. 

“’’Fraid so,” he shoots back, flashing his friend an evil grin.

The sound of a cell phone ringing somewhere in the house makes them both start. Grover watches as Danny listens intently then flings his hands in the air. “For crying out loud…”

By the time his partner appears several minutes later, his phone still in his hand, Danny is building up a good head of steam. “What did I say about getting some rest?” 

“It was the Governor, Danny,” Steve, shoots back impatiently. “I have to take his calls.” 

“Nice to know someone loves us,” Grover cuts in, trying to lighten the suddenly tense mood.

“So, what did he want?” Danny’s still animated but Grover doesn’t miss the concerned way he’s studying his friend. McGarrett’s obviously agitated about something, his forehead crinkled in a deep frown, his thumb flicking nervously across his nose.

“He’s been trying to contact Agent Baker too.”

“And Agent Baker doesn’t want to be found.” Danny’s talking with his hands again. “I can understand someone not wanting to talk to you, babe. But not taking the Governor’s calls? Not even you would do something that stupid.”

“So where—“ he starts and then stops, his stomach flipping as he spots movement out of the corner of his eye. 

One of the lights on the security panel is flashing. One of the sensors outside has just been tripped.


	4. Chapter 4

The straps of his tac vest feel reassuring between Grover’s fingertips as he pulls them tight. He's been wearing the vest since they started this operation so he knows it's on securely. That doesn't stop him giving it one last reassuring tug. Gun, spare ammo and a taser are next to go on. Instead of adding weight they give him balance.

Right now he needs balance.

He breathes in the familiar smell of gun oil and then breathes out slowly. Closing his eyes he repeats the exercise again. To his left, back towards the living area, he can hear Kono talking to the Rosso's. Behind him, back in the security room, McGarrett is talking to Chin. Low and urgent, their tone reminds him how serious the situation is.

Like he needs reminding.

"Lou, you okay?"

Opening his eyes Grover nods at Danny who is standing beside him. Normally he'd come back with a quick witted reply but his heart isn't it. He can see that Danny's isn't either.

Together they join the others in the security room, standing aside for a moment to let the Rosso's and Kono go in before them. Space is limited, mainly because of the metal crates of weapons now open on the floor. His mind whirls as he runs his eyes over the contents. McGarrett has packed for every eventuality.

Angelique Rosso is looking too, her eyes huge as she takes in the situation. His respect for her goes up a notch as she collects herself and pulls out a chair, sitting down to wait for instructions. Her husband does the same, only the nervous tap of his fingers on his knee giving away his real mood. Not for the first time that day Grover wonders what he'd be like in this situation, with the Taliban hunting him down.

Certainly not as calm as this.

He tucks that thought away as McGarrett finishes his conversation with Chin and turns. Brow furrowed, lips pursed, his body is strung tight with tension. As he looks at them in turn Grover feels himself subconsciously stand to attention. Compared to McGarrett's tac vest his looks positively bare.

"Okay, the motion sensors on the north-west section of the wall have been triggered. Lou and Danny, you're with me. Chin, you're our eyes. Mr and Mrs Rosso, you're going to stay in here with Kono. You follow her orders without question. Do you understand?"

Both agree with mute nods but Grover can see that Kono's having problems following her orders without question. As she opens her mouth to protest McGarrett quells her with a look. He flashes her a sympathetic look, understanding her need to be outside with them. But McGarrett's right. It's not about experience or gender. The Rossos respond to her, Stanley in particular. And that's vital when every second counts.

"Chin and Kono. The building is still secure and it’s defensible. Whatever you do, stay in here." And if everything really does go wrong, call the Governor for help, Grover thinks to himself. They'd gone through all this the day before. He's guessing the recap is mostly for the Rossos' benefit.

"Hey, how about this? Why don't we all stay in here and call for help? How about that for a plan?"

"We talked about this." McGarrett's tone is distracted as he carries out the final checks on his weapons. "We need to defend ourselves. If we just wait here like sitting ducks he'll know this is a trap. I need Intel, we can get that from Nika's men, maybe use them to draw him out." Stuffing his gun into his thigh holster with a decisive click he stands up and faces them all. "Nika's gonna have some tricks up his sleeve that we don't know about yet, I guarantee you. We have to find a way to pull some surprises of our own."

Danny still doesn't look happy but he checks his weapon. Grover does the same, reassured by the weight of the shotgun he's carrying. Taking a deep breath he forces himself to calm. He understands why Danny felt the need to check where his friend's head was at: the ex-SEAL is oozing adrenaline and Grover knows he's not the only one in the room who's feeling it as Danny starts bouncing on his toes. He's never served on the frontline of a war, has no urge to do so, but for a split second in his mind’s eye he can see Steve there, can understand why soldiers followed him into battle.

Grover holds onto that thought as they check the cameras and comms one last time before heading outside. It's late evening, the sun just starting to set as McGarrett takes point. He waits for Danny to slot in behind him before he takes the rear as they head for the section of the grounds where the tripped alarm is.

Since he's joined Five-0 he's done more training and drills than at any other time in his career. Right at this moment he's thankful for every extra skill McGarrett's taught them. Not only has the peace been shattered by the sound of the alarm going off, every dog in the neighbourhood is barking and there are voices quite close by. Probably neighbours, he thinks, rapidly assessing each piece of information and filing it like McGarrett's told them. Sweat is already pooling under his tac vest, making it chafe, but he files that under 'ignore' and keeps moving. The shadows around them are growing longer and he finds himself crouching down to check under trees and bushes into the darkness.

In front of him McGarrett raises his fist and as one they halt. When he flicks his fingers they move on. Nearly at the location of the alarm they fan out. Chin's their invisible companion throughout, the even tone of his voice a calming influence in his right ear. He breathes a sigh of relief as Chin switches the alarm off and the dogs stop barking but the unnatural silence that replaces them sends a shiver down his spine.

They've probably only got five minutes, Grover guesses, before it gets too dark to search without more equipment. The house has outside lights too but he knows Steve doesn't want to use them in case Nika's men are in the garden, it will give them too much of an advantage.

Slowly turning 180 degrees to check around his heart skips a beat as the bushes to his left rustle. It's the wind he tells himself and feels his heart skip again as his brain registers the lack of breeze. That bush is easily big enough to hide a person it adds helpfully.

Some days he hates his brain.

Training taking over he signals to Steve and Danny, whispering to Chin what's going on. As one they raise their weapons and target the bush, their fingers resting patiently above the triggers as Steve identifies them, his voice overly loud in the silence.  
For a few seconds all he can hear is his own heavy breathing.

And then all he can feel is his heart trying to explode out of his chest as two small shadows dive out of the bush.

Beside him Danny’s moving, tracking the shadows but they’re fast. McGarrett is faster, leaping to intercept as the shadows move into the light.

Grover blinks as Chin switches on the outside lights. His eyes adjust to reveal Steve, tightly gripping a cat in each hand. Two very scared and angry cats he notes, stifling a nervous laugh as they lash out, causing their captor to drop them with a curse.

“Smooth, babe,” Danny offers with a smirk as Steve scowls at them both.

“It’s not funny,” McGarrett grunts in reply, scanning the area around them, now that it’s bathed in artificial light. The cats are long gone and without the long shadows the garden looks a lot less threatening than before.

They split out again and check the rest of the garden but the sense of urgency has gone, the adrenaline fading to a manageable level. Mainly he’s feeling relieved, something he’s sure Danny is feeling too. McGarrett though just looks disappointed, his body bristling with frustration as they retrace their steps back to the house.

Concentrating on his two friends and the area around them he doesn’t notice the object in the grass until he’s standing on top of it. The loud crunch noise has him looking down.

“Don’t move, Lou.”

“What?” Suddenly McGarrett’s standing in front of him, one hand out in warning. A million and one things flash through his brain, most of them stupid, as he tries to deny what is happening but Steve’s expression tells him this isn’t good. As the other man slowly kneels then stretches out on the grass to look at whatever he’s standing on the panicked voice in his head insists there must be a logical reason for this. There’s no way, in the middle of a quiet suburb in Hawaii, he’s stepped on a Taliban mine. “It’s probably just a-“

“Just do as he says.” Danny’s tone is deadly serious, allowing no argument.

“It’s nothing-“

“We checked this area yesterday. This wasn’t here.” It’s Steve voice, muffled by the grass.  
Determined not to move he doesn’t look down but he can feel something sharp prodding at his boot. Gritting his teeth, he resists the urge to flinch.

“Okay, I think it’s a cell phone.” Sitting up on his heels, Steve wipes his hands on his thighs. 

Grover feels his heart beat rocket as the other man wipes his hand across his mouth, obviously deep in thought. “And?”

Danny shifts beside him, reaching out a reassuring hand. “You can’t fit an explosive device in one of those, right?”

“You can fit an explosive device in most things, Danny,” Steve shoots back, leaning back down again to look under his boot. “But to answer your question, I don’t think there is an explosive device in this one,” he confirms, looking up to flash him what he assumes McGarrett thinks is a reassuring smile. “Lou’s already broken it, it would have gone off by now.”

“Shit.” The words rolls out of his mouth unbidden. Suddenly he feels his knees about to fold.

“Whoa.” Danny’s there’s beside him, wedging his shoulder under this arm. He lets himself slump into the reassuring sturdiness of his friend. McGarrett’s got his hand around his ankle, gently lifting his foot away from the phone. Danny takes the hint, drawing him away carefully before turning them towards the house.

“You okay?” The front door is open and Kono’s waiting for them. When she offers him her shoulder he waves her off, taking deep breaths as he forces his legs to work. Pulling away from Danny he grabs the door frame and looks back over his shoulder.

McGarrett is still kneeling in the grass, carefully poking at the phone with his ceramic knife. Danny lets out a huff then steps back out again, taking up guard on the outside of the door. “You guys go,” he tells them, his attention already focused on his partner. “I’ll wait here while he does his thing.” 

H50H50H50H50

By the time McGarrett appears in the kitchen twenty minutes later with Danny in tow, Grover feels nearly human again. Hands wrapped tightly around a hot drink he’s almost stopped shaking. Exhaustion is creeping up on him and he’s guessing he hasn’t got long before he’ll need to crash. One look at McGarrett’s face though tells him he’s not getting to crash any time soon.

“Where’s Rosso?”

“They’re both in their room,” Kono offers, appearing behind them. Steve’s tone is brusque, demanding, and she raises an eyebrow at Danny in concern. With a small shake of his head, he pulls out a chair and sits beside him. “How you doing?”

“Better.” Better than your partner, he thinks, watching as McGarrett carries on fiddling with the phone, a dark scowl on his face.

Danny follows his gaze, his own face twisting into a scowl. “Hey, Steve. Lou’s alright.”

“What?” Steve’s head snaps up. Looking around he seems surprised he’s not alone. “I need to talk to Chin.”

As McGarrett disappears out of the kitchen Danny puts his hand up, effectively stopping any questions. “Don’t ask. He’s in full SEAL mode. Who knows what’s going on in his brain.” Sighing tiredly he rubs his face. “There’s a picture on there or something.”

Grover rouses himself, shaking off the tiredness that’s sinking into his bones. “A picture of what?”

“Two people, maybe a man and a woman. It’s difficult to tell, it’s blurred and they’re too far away. I think he’s going to ask Chin to look at it.”

Danny slumps, resting his head on his hands. Grover can’t help himself: he yawns in sympathy. Danny peers up at him, the expression in his eyes sympathetic. “Go rest for a while.”

“I can’t, it’s my turn-“ He knows his protest sounds weak but he can’t find it in himself to care. A bed right now would be a little piece of heaven.

“Go. I’ll come get you.” With a sigh Danny pushes himself to his feet. “I’d better go and see what Steve is up to.”

H50h50h50h0h5o

It’s the sound of voices close by that wakes him. Instantly he’s alert, the last few traces of adrenaline still lingering in his blood stream. Frowning, Grover listens intently, not ready yet to leave the pitch black cocoon of the bedroom.

Slowly he smiles then throws back the covers before retrieving his pants from the floor.

“Chin, you were supposed to get the groceries,” Danny’s saying as enters the kitchen, blinking against the bright lights.

Chin’s standing across the kitchen island from Danny. Between them is a stack of food. There's a light-hearted argument brewing, he can sense it. He bites back a grin, settling in to watch the entertainment.

Of course if they weren't all still wearing their tac vests indoors and carrying loaded weapons then this whole thing would be so much more fun.

The thought brings Grover back to reality with a bump. Before he can ask for an update on the phone they found, Kono appears at his shoulder. Looking sleep-mussed she's re-fastening the clips of her vest. "Feeling better?" she asks with a wide smile and a companionable shoulder nudge that he can't help but return.

"Like new."

For a while they watch Danny and Chin sorting through the groceries, their expressions unhappy, until finally Kono cracks. "What's happening?"

Danny pins Chin with an accusing stare. "Someone let Steve buy the food."

"I was busy setting up the surveillance room," Chin retorts, hands up in the air defensively but Danny's smiling to himself and Kono's chuckle is contagious.

Looking at the pile of food more closely, Grover finds himself chuckling too. It's obvious that McGarrett knows where to find the fruit and vegetables in the local store. But that's where it ends. There isn't going to be a fast food binge on this stakeout.

His stomach rumbles quietly, mourning the absence of his favourite foods.

Mumbling under his breath Danny starts pulling things out of the pile and putting them to one side. Taking that as a sign that they've got a volunteer chef he offers to cover the CCTV for Chin, so that he can get some sleep.

"I'm good, brah," Chin replies, waving him away as he starts hunting through the kitchen cupboards. "Steve's still in there looking at the phone."

"Anything else on there?" He can already tell from the expressions on his friends faces that the news isn't good.

"Burner phone," Danny confirms with a grimace, hands on hips, the food forgotten for the moment. "Just that one blurry picture. And a partial print for Nika on the casing--"

"--which it would be nice to think he missed accidentally..." Chin adds.

"But we all know that isn't true," he finishes for them.

"So he's sending us a message," Kono offers into the silence that follows. "But what's the message?"

Danny shrugs, worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth. "Or he could just be screwing with us," he says thoughtfully, looking towards the CCTV room with a frown, "in which case that plan's working just fine."

H50h50h50h0h5o

Danny’s revelation doesn’t sit well with any of them. Grover can see it written on their faces: the uncertainty, the tiredness, the underlying sense of fear. They’re used to working on difficult cases but this one is a real roller-coaster. And Steve’s so immersed in his own thoughts and memories, his brain focused in Navy mode, they’re missing the stability his presence normally provides.

So yeah, Danny’s right, this case is really screwing with them.

With an angry shake of his head he quashes that thought. Steve needs them to step up and that’s what they are going to do. Around him he feels the others coming to the same conclusion, shoulders being pulled up straight, deep breathes being taken. They’ve still got a job to do.

Sensing he’s not needed in the kitchen he takes over the patrol duties instead, checking all the rooms are secure. The building a warren of rooms and corridors and despite the CCTV and security measures in place he still feels his heart rate rising. Logically he knows it’s just a left-over effect of the incident outside, magnifying every noise he hears, but he can’t stop his hand drifting to his gun, leaning lightly on the holster as he moves around the house.

So when he enters the living space and spots a shape standing in the shadows by the windows he almost jumps out of his skin.

“Jeez,” he breathes out unsteadily, forcing his fingers to flex away from his gun holster when the figure steps forward and he realises it’s just Angelique. Arms crossed, lips pressed tight in a thin line, her eyes red-rimmed, it’s obvious she’s upset about something.

“His leg’s bothering him,” she offers unhappily when he raises an eyebrow in her direction, his gaze drifting towards their bedroom door. “The pain meds…they make him…irritable.”

For a moment Grover’s not sure what to say. He doesn’t consider himself a hard man but her attack on Steve earlier is still gnawing at him. His friend didn’t deserve her anger so feeling sympathy for her position in return is beyond him right now. Instead he brushes past her to check the windows. 

“I’m sorry about what I said about the Commander,” she says quietly, so quietly that he stops in his tracks and turns slowly. “It was the shock of seeing him like that. But you have to understand that the last time I saw him…the last time I saw him was at the inquiry. Stanley was injured so badly and all I wanted was answers…” She’s shaking he realises, minute tremors rolling through her body. “All I wanted was answers and…and the Commander was so calm. His men were supposed to rescue him and he just stood there at the inquiry as if…” Raising her eyes she locks her gaze with him and he finds himself unable to look away, gritting his teeth against a surge of anger that’s threatening to overwhelm him. “What I’m trying to say is that I understand that the Commander was just doing his duty. But Stanley was serving his country too. He didn’t deserve what happened to him in Afghanistan either.”

Maybe not, a bitter sounding inner voice tells him, but Stanley’s a politician and he’s never had a soft spot for them. Not when it comes to wars. Making decisions in Washington is the easy part.

Steve wouldn’t agree though, he knows that. His friend’s sense of duty to his country goes much deeper than just following orders. With a heavy sigh, Grover waves towards the couch, reluctantly calling a truce between them. They need answers and Angelique’s talking: he can’t afford to let the anger he’s feeling on behalf of his friend override everything.

“Thank you,” she whispers, the corners of her lips flicking up in a weak smile as she sits beside him. “I know this isn’t easy for any of you either. I’m tired of this too, of people risking their lives to protect ours. It’s not what I thought my life would be as a politician’s wife.”

“It’s not exactly the glamour of Washington,” he acknowledges grimly, encompassing the room they are in with a sweep of his hand.

With a quick glance around of her own she agrees with a dip of her chin. “I always thought being a politician's wife would be more glamorous. Shallow I know. But Stanley was…amazing. He could have had any woman he wanted. I couldn’t believe he wanted to be with me.” Twisting her hair nervously between her fingers, her expression goes distant and he can tell she’s deep in memories that she’s reluctant to share. “Women used to throw themselves at him but he always came back to me. When he came back from Afghanistan though...”

“Things had changed?”

“He was more subdued,” she agrees, her fingers stopping mid-twirl, her expression thoughtful. “He was a totally different person.”

Despite himself Grover feels the first flickers of sympathy. “It’s understandable. After what he'd been through.”

“You think so?” Her tone is pathetically hopeful and he looks away, unable to meet her eyes. “He became more secretive too. I thought perhaps he had another woman but he couldn't, not with Baker’s team watching us 24 hours a day.”

That would depend on if the CIA cared if he had another woman Grover thinks vaguely, his brain already focusing on other things, a distant warning bell starting to ring in his head. All the information they’ve collected about Rosso hadn’t mentioned that he was a womaniser. But that could just be because friends in Washington were protecting him.

He _really_ hates politicians. 

There’s another barely formed thought swimming around in his brain though, just itching to get out. Focusing hard, trying to grab it, he’s only vaguely aware that Angelique’s still talking. 

Angelique suddenly falling silent brings him back to himself. Blinking, he realises Steve is standing in the doorway, his eyebrows drawn down in a frown. Angelique is staring back, her chin lifted defiantly. It’s like they’ve drawn up an invisible battle line between them.

“You got a minute, Lou?” 

It’s obvious his friend isn’t going to leave his post by the doorway so with a sigh he gets up to join him. It’s still not enough to get the frown off Steve’s face though and turning he realises that Angelique is still sitting across from them.

“I’ll go and check on Stanley,” she says eventually but only after Steve’s frown has grown even deeper, his lips dipping at the corners, his shoulders rigid under his tac vest. Apparently whatever he wants to talk about he’s not going to do it in front of the politician’s wife. 

“You okay?” his friend asks him quietly, when Angelique finally closes the bedroom door behind her. Steve’s got his hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently in silent apology. Navy Steve has taken a back seat, at least for the moment, Grover realises with a pang of relief. Steve’s tired eyes are full of concern.

“I’m good.” It’s not quite the truth but it’s what his friend needs right now so he gives it to him. No one ever said this case was going to be easy. 

And anyway, it’s not like he forced them to come along.

He doesn’t realise he’s quietly chuckling to himself until Steve raises an eyebrow in concern. Waving him off he concentrates instead on the burner phone his friend is holding in his hand. “Have we got anything?” Steve offers him the cell, now wrapped in a clear plastic evidence bag. Inside there’s also a print of the picture they’ve been trying to enhance. Smoothing the bag flat, he peers at the blurred photograph. “Any idea who they are?”

“No.” His friend’s deeply weary sigh tells him everything he needs to know. “I’ve reached out to some contacts. We’ll see what they say.” With a flick of his fingers he indicates the door that Angelique just disappeared through. “Did she say anything?”

It’s on the tip of his tongue to ask just who he’s reached out to but Grover knows it will be a waste of time. Steve’s more paranoid than normal, convinced that Nika has spies everywhere. If he’s reached out to anyone then Steve’s favourite phrase (it’s _classified_ , Danny) isn’t even going to begin to describe how deep down in the intelligence community these people are embedded.

“She obviously cares for him. And she’s worried about him,” he starts slowly instead, still struggling to put his anger aside, to get his thoughts clear. “It turns out that Stanley used to have an eye for the ladies. Reading between the lines I think he had quite the reputation. But since Afghanistan he’s changed. Not surprising,” he adds gently, feeling his heart clench in sympathy as a shadow falls over his friend’s face. “Something like that changes a man.”

“Yeah.” 

Rubbing his hand over his face, Steve doesn’t meet his eyes. His expression is distant, lost in memories again. Wanting to give his friend a moment Grover returns his attention to the package in his hand, his focus on the photo. Staring hard he tries to look beyond the pixelated image itself and instead understand why Nika would send them the image in the first place.

Slowly an idea starts to form in his mind. It’s a long shot. A very long shot. And like Danny said it could just be Nika playing with their minds. But if he’s come all the way to Hawaii to get Stanley Rosso then would he really waste time playing games? “Damn.” 

Steve’s back with him in a second, head up, eyes flashing with interest. “What?”

“It’s probably nothing,” Grover hears himself saying, the little voice of doubt in his mind still overriding everything else. “But what if that is Stanley Rosso in that photo? Who’s the woman he’s with?”

Steve’s grabbed the photo from him before he can even blink, staring at it, willing it to give them more answers. “It’s just a gut feeling,” he explains apologetically, already feeling like he needs to back off. “It’s probably noth—“

“Danny!” the younger man leans back to yell out of the door before turning back, fixing him to the spot with a fierce smile, his eyes full of grim intent. “Gut feelings are what keep you alive, Lou. You know that.”

“But—“

Steve silences him with a raised hand. “Danny!”

“I’m coming!” Within seconds Danny’s at his partner’s side, smoothing his hair down in sharp, angry strokes, his eyes flashing with anger. “Some of us are busy trying to make that crap you bought into something we can eat. Would it have killed you to buy some carbs, Steven? Not all of us can survive on rabbit foo—“

Danny stops mid-rant. Steve’s thrust the photo in front of him, an eyebrow raised in question. “Stanley Rosso. Could that be him in the photo?”

Grover watches them silently as Danny takes the photo, his anger forgotten as he studies it carefully. They are a mirror image of each other, identical expressions of concentration as they stand side by side, their elbows just touching. The first time Steve had done this, questioned one of his theories with Danny, he’d felt insulted. Now he understands that for Steve it’s instinctive, total trust in his partner making him turn to Danny for advice. Not for the first time he wonders where Steve would be now if he’d come back to Hawaii but hadn’t met Danny. 

There’s no way he would have stayed. Of that he’s sure. 

“Maybe,” Danny offers doubtfully, chewing his lip. “Where’d you get this idea from anyway, babe?”

When Steve nods towards him, a small smile on his face, Grover actually feels his cheeks colour. By the time he’s explained his theory again though he’s feeling more confident, the idea seeming more plausible by the second. This case has always revolved around Rosso. They’ve just been too busy focusing on Nika.

He lets out a sigh of relief as Danny starts nodding. “Okay. Okay. That might work.” Beside him Steve relaxes his shoulders an inch or two too. There’s a buzz in the air again now that they’ve got something to work with, pushing away the despondency they’ve all been feeling. “But who’s that woman in the picture? And why is Nika interested in it?”

“And how did he get hold of the picture?” he hears himself asking, the final piece of the puzzle that’s been bothering him falling into place. “Where’s it from?”

“Good questions, Lou.” Steve’s pushing himself off the door frame, straightening up his tac vest and badge. “Let’s go and see what Stanley has to say.”

He exchanges a wary look with Danny as they follow his partner to the Rossos’ room. Steve’s buzzing with tightly contained energy again.

It looks like Navy Steve is back. 

He has to bite back his amusement as Danny steps up beside his partner, pointedly leaning forward to knock on the door before neatly folding his hands behind his back, his expression daring Steve to barge in. Steve deliberately ignores him, choosing to glare at the closed door instead. 

‘Glare’ might be the wrong word Grover revises, biting back another smile. There’s way too much silent laughter in the younger man’s eyes to call that a glare. 

It’s a good moment. But it’s a brief one. Because the bedroom door doesn’t open despite Steve knocking again.

The three of them share a glance before Danny steps back, giving his partner free reign. Steve knocks once more, announcing they’re coming in and then he’s pushing the door open, cautiously putting his head round the side, blocking the rest of the space with his body.

He feels his heartbeat instantly ramp up when Steve’s body tenses, his hand drifting to his gun. Beside him Danny is doing the same, twisting himself sideways to tuck in the doorway beside Steve, to back up his partner. He follows their lead, taking a deep breath as Steve pushes the door open so at last he can see inside the room.

Angelique no longer looks she’s stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine. Hair hanging messily around her face, her eyes still red-rimmed, she’s kneeling on the bed by her husband, her hands resting on each side of his neck. As Steve sidles around the bed, his weapon raised she finally looks up and meets their eyes.

“You’ve got to help him,” she tells them frantically, panic written across her face. “I don’t think he’s breathing.”

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

None of them move at first, each frozen in shock.  Predictably it’s Steve who springs into action first, holstering his weapon and reaching for the unconscious man on the bed, forcibly pushing his wife to one side. 

Automatically Grover feels himself reach out to stop Angelique from overbalancing on the edge of the bed and falling to the floor.  Pulling her upright he watches as the partners share a glance, unspoken words being exchanged in a moment.  When Danny suddenly disappears from the room and Steve turns his attention back to the man on the bed, eyebrows drawn into a deep furrow of concern, he realises it’s up to him to find out what happened here.

Angelique’s almost limp in his arms, her weight increasing by the second.  Gripping her by the elbows he pulls her upright before helping her to sit in the nearest chair.  Her glazed expression is locked on her husband so he hunkers down in front of her, blocking them both from the image of McGarrett running through his first responder drills.

Gently picking up her arm he turns it over.  As her hand naturally unfurls he checks her skin and nails for signs of a struggle.  Repeating the exercise on the other arm, he rests his fingers on her wrist, checking her pulse.  Unprotestingly she lets him work, her glazed expression still not focusing on him.  Her pulse is fast, he notes, but then so is his right now. 

He really thought he’d nailed her character, thought he’d made some sort of connection with her back there.  He’s always prided himself on being able to read people but right now the doubt’s creeping in.  Her hands don’t suggest there was a struggle but if Stanley had already been drugged then he wouldn’t have been aware of what was happening and fought back.  Or maybe she’s been drugged too, his brain supplies, as her glazed expression finally meets his.

“Is he going to be okay?”

‘You tell me,’ is what he feels like asking.  Instead he focuses on the evidence in front of him.  Angelique’s voice is whispery, breaking on every other word.  He can feel her arms trembling.  She’s the epitome of the worried spouse.  He’s seen this so many times before.

Or perhaps she’s just a very good actress?

The sound of the bedroom door opening interrupts his spiralling thoughts.  Danny reappears with a large blue carryall.  Navy issue, his brain reminds him.  Medical supplies.  Steve had been carrying it yesterday when they’d first arrived at the house.  As Danny starts spreading the supplies out on the bed, Kono appears.

“Chin’s checking the perimeter,” she confirms as Steve looks up, answering his question for him before he can ask it. 

“Good,” McGarrett replies, his tone preoccupied, his attention already turning back to Rosso.  “Check the drawers.  I need to know what he’s been given.”

‘Given’ not ‘taken’, Grover notes as the people around him slip into their roles, working together like a well-oiled machine.  Turning his attention back to Angelique, he tilts her chin gently upwards to make her meet his eyes again.   “Tell me what happened.”

What they saw when they entered the room means it doesn’t look good for her.  But his gut instinct is still telling him that going in all guns blazing at this point won’t get them what they need. 

Pulling away from his hand she looks down and with a jolt he realises she’s stroking her wedding ring repetitively, like a small child looking for comfort with a favourite toy when it’s upset.  It’s something he’s seen Renee do hundreds of times, when she’s been worried about the kids.  Or about him.

The kids.

Behind him Steve’s voice is getting louder, issuing instructions in short, sharp bursts, like bullets out of a gun.  Danny is suspiciously quiet and when he twists to look over his shoulder he understands why.  Both men are leaning over Rosso’s body, they’re inserting an IV and there are pads and wires on his chest leading to a beeping machine.  Kono’s pulling things out of drawers with a growing sense of urgency and it suddenly hits him how much trouble they’re in. 

This isn’t a simple case of an overdose of sleeping tablets.  Nika knows their location.  Baker’s gone off the grid.  Whether Angelique is involved or not that’s at least two too many coincidences. 

Despite their best efforts someone has got to Rosso while they were protecting him.

And his wife and kids are stuck on an island where he can’t help them at all.

“Tell me!”  Vaguely he’s aware that he’s shaking Angelique, forcing her to jerk her head up in surprise.  Out of the corner of his eye he sees Kono pause and then carry on, silent approval in her eyes.  “Did you give him the drugs?  Who told you to give him the drugs?  Why are you trying to kill him?”

“Yes.  What?  No!”  Suddenly energised, she pulls away from him, fear in her eyes.  “No!  No!  It’s the same drugs I always give him.  Everyday.  The same drugs.”

He shakes his head, trying to make sense of what she’s telling him.  “You give him drugs?”

“Yes, of course I do.”  Obviously there’s something in his expression that’s telling her he doesn’t understand because she pulls away, turning to talk to Kono instead.  “He doesn’t remember when to take them so I do it for him.  Ever since Afghanistan.  Everyday.”

“So where are they?”

Kono’s voice carries a similar tone of disbelief Grover notes.  Angelique notices too.  With an impatient huff she waves toward the bed, her body language becoming more animated as she focuses on her husband.  “They were _here._   I gave him the painkillers, I came outside to let him sleep.  When I came back in…when I came back in I couldn’t wake him up and then I realised…I don’t think he was breathing.  I got on the bed to check…oh, God… Stanley…”

With a start Grover realises she’s crawling back on the bed.  Danny’s got one arm out to stop her but she’s in danger of dislodging all the medical equipment.  Grabbing her by the waist he pulls her back, ignoring her struggles.

“We need those drugs.”  It’s Danny doing the talking now.  All Steve’s attention is on drawing liquid from a small vial into a syringe.

“They’re _here_.  They were on the bed.”

She might be playacting, Grover thinks vaguely, but if she is it’s an Oscar winning performance. 

Kono must think the same thing because she scans the room again, urgently.  “The bed...”  With a curse she gets on her hands and knees, reaching out underneath it to hunt around.  “Got them,” she confirms finally, kneeling back up to tip everything she’s found onto the mattress.

“There was a list of his medication in the file,” Danny reminds them but Kono’s already retrieving her phone, swiping through screens rapidly until she gets to the one she needs.  Quickly she reads through the list, separating out the pill vials until there’s two left.  “These aren’t on here.”

“No, that’s not right.”  Angelique’s pulling away from him, craning over to see the list.  Grover’s on the verge of pulling her back when McGarrett shoots him a look that screams ‘hurry’ so he lets her go, following her to the floor as she kneels next to Kono.  Picking up the two vials she twists them in her hands, peering at the labels.  “They were delivered with the rest of his medication.”

Instantly he can hear warning bells chiming in his head.  “Delivered?  You don’t collect the prescriptions yourself?”

The look that she gives him says ‘of course not’.  “We move every three months so the doctor comes to us.  He writes out the prescription and it’s delivered by our protection detail.”

“So a different person delivers them every time?”

“No.”  Angelique’s reply is instant but he can see the exact moment that the truth hits her.  “No,” she repeats slowly, her gaze dropping to look with horror at the vials in her hands. “Agent Baker brings them.  He told me it was a new prescription.  Stanley had to start taking them as soon as his other pills ran out.”

“And when was that?”

It’s McGarrett asking the question this time but they already know the answer.  “Yesterday.  They ran out yesterday.” 

There’s silence for a moment, all lost in their own thoughts as they try to understand the implications of what they’ve just learnt.  Finally McGarrett shifts, indicating with a nod of the head that he needs to talk to his team outside.  Grover moves to comply, gently pulling Angelique to her feet.

“I _gave_ them to him.”  Her words are whispered but the pain in them is unmistakeable, raw.  Real.  So very real.  Unable to offer her any other form of comfort he gives her a one-armed hug, pulling her close as her shoulders start to shake with shock.

Across the room there’s a flicker of sympathy in McGarrett’s eyes, despite the sense of urgency that’s radiating off of him.  “She can stay.”

Leaving the room last, Grover leaves the door slightly ajar.  Through the gap he can see Angelique perched on the side of the bed.  Gently stroking her husband’s face, she’s talking quietly to him, tears rolling down her face.

Out in the hallway Chin’s joined them.  Danny’s bringing him up to speed, his hands wind milling as his anger builds.  Grover empathises with his friend.  Right now he really wants to punch something.  Hard.  Very, very hard.

“So, we’ve been played by the CIA,” Chin summarises. There’s a particular note of anger in his voice that Grover can’t remember ever having heard before.  “What’s our next move?”

His question is addressed to their leader but McGarrett is busy on his phone.  With a start Grover realises that Steve’s got the vials in his hand and he’s taking a picture of them, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he types something and then hits send.  “What’s next?” he repeats eventually, tucking his cell and the vials into his pocket.  “I’m reaching out to some people to find out what’s in those pills but whatever they tell us, I think it’s going to be too late.  Stanley’s heart rate and blood pressure are all over the place.   We need to get him to a hospital, now.”

McGarrett’s tone is factual, even, calm.  Grover feels it grating on his nerves then quashes it down hard.  Navy SEAL Steve is back and for once he’s pleased to see him.  Agent Baker has screwed them over.  And that scares the crap out of him.

Beside him he can feel Danny shift uneasily.  Roughly he stuffs his hands into his pockets, a sure sign that he’s nervous.  “Okay, he needs medical attention.  I get that.  But why can’t we call for help?  Get the EMS guys in here.  If we leave we’re sitting ducks and—“

“Don’t you think I know that?”  Steve takes a long drag of air and Grover reconsiders his assessment about which version of McGarrett is present.  “If we leave we are vulnerable.  But if we wait for the paramedics he will die.”

“And?”  Danny’s pulling himself up straighter, taking a step towards his partner, his chin lifting in challenge.  “Maybe that’s a risk we should take.  For some reason Baker needs us to break cover.   I’m not sure I like playing into his hands.”

His eyes flashing with anger, McGarrett tries to stare him down, tensing his shoulders, magnifying the effect of towering over his partner.  “So we call for help and the EMS crew turn out to be Nika’s men and they kill us,” he shoots back, his words sharp and mocking.  “Or perhaps the EMS crew turn out to be real but then Nika and his men ambush them on the way to the hospital and innocent civilians end up getting killed.  _Again_.  Or,” Steve adds after a beat, leaning forward to get into Danny’s face, “because we decide to call Baker’s bluff he threatens Grace and Charlie, he threatens your families.”

Grover knows he’s not the only one who’s taken a sharp intake of breath, who feels like he’s just taken a punch to the gut.  Danny’s hands are clenching and unclenching into fists, his shoulders curled in anger towards his partner.  Kono’s there before he can strike though, running her hand down his arm to rest on his wrist. 

Slowly, painfully, Danny unfurls.  “Or maybe we just let him die,” he offers into the charged silence, his tone as razor sharp and bitter as his partner’s.  “Who is he to us anyway?”

McGarrett’s flinch is almost imperceptible but Grover sees it anyway.  Stanley Rosso means nothing to them but at this moment he means everything to McGarrett.  Without him they won’t get the answers from Nika.  They’ll never find out what happened on that mission. 

Steve will never get to lay this ghost of his to rest.

Which is why they won’t let Rosso die.  At least not for now.

Sighing low and long Danny steps back.  For a moment he keeps his head down, hands on his hips but eventually he looks up, locking his gaze on his partner.  “So, we need to get Rosso to the hospital?”

“Yeah.”  Steve’s voice is quiet and when he looks at each of them at turn, his expression is surprisingly hesitant.  It’s an unusual look on him and Grover finds himself standing taller in an effort to support his friend.   Around him he can feel the others do the same.  Despite the pain his words had inflicted, and they had hurt, he knows his friend’s anger is a product of his overwhelming need to protect those closest to him.

 “And no, we’re not leaving,” Danny cuts in as Steve opens his mouth to speak again, voicing exactly what Grover’s been thinking.  The way McGarrett’s face drops confirms he was about to ask them to do just that.  “So you gonna tell us what the plan is?”

McGarrett looks at each of them in turn, none of them missing the look of gratitude in his eyes.  And then he outlines the plan.

As he maps out the details Grover feels the panic churning in his gut start to dispel.  It’s not that he’s feeling any calmer – he’s not, not by a long way.  They’ve still got an international terrorist tracking them.  And it’s just been confirmed they’re pawns in a CIA game of chess.  But they’ve got McGarrett back with them, not just his SEAL persona.  It’s a hybrid version: the soldier and the real Steve McGarrett  who’s emerged since his return to Hawaii. 

And there’s something strangely reassuring about it. 

It means they’ve still got a chance of getting out of this in one piece.

H50H50H50H50

Several hours later he realises how overly optimistic he’d been back then.  Sure, they might still get out of this.  But the ‘in one piece’ bit?  That isn’t looking so hopeful.

Blinking blood out of his eyes he squints, takes aim and fires.  His target ducks, the bullet just misses and he curses under his breath.  Mentally counting he knows he’s only got a few bullets left.  The ground around them, where they’ve taken cover behind his truck, is littered with shells but they are all empty. 

Looking to his left he can see Chin kneeling beside him.  Beside Chin, Kono is hunkered down lower, using her body to protect Angelique.  They’re holding her ammunition in reserve.  If Nika’s men get Angelique they can use her as leverage against Stanley and that’s something they just can’t allow to happen. 

But right now he’s more worried about what happens if Nika’s men get Stanley.  Nika’s men who currently have Danny and Steve’s vehicle sandwiched between their own trucks, effectively cutting them off from the rest of the team. 

And Stanley Rosso is with them.

The plan had almost worked.  Two blocks out from Tripler they were going to radio the Governor’s office for help.  Any earlier and they’d give Nika time to find out where they were going and intercept them, Steve had argued, convinced Nika was listening in on all their communications. 

It was a stupid plan, Danny had argued, pointing out that Nika and Baker were holding all the cards and all they were doing was playing into their hands.

Steve had just glared back at him mulishly, his mouth one tight, angry line.

The rest of them had just watched them in silence.  Whatever happened it wasn’t going to be easy, Grover had thought.  In a situation like this luck would either be on their side or it wouldn’t.  And they couldn’t control that.

In the end it had turned out that it wasn’t.  And Danny had been right.  But only just.

They’d made it to two blocks out, Grover realised, stealing a quick glance over the hood of his truck to get his bearings before ducking under cover again, flinching at the sharp pinging sound of bullets hitting the metal.  But he’s not sure if they managed to radio out.

One moment they’d been driving along the highway, Chin beside him in the passenger seat, Kono and Angelique huddled down in the back seat.  The next second there’d been the loud crack of a high velocity weapon and the Camaro in front of them had swerved and then righted itself.  Before Chin could radio forward to ask McGarrett what was happening there was another crack, much closer, and the spray of glass across his face.

And then everything just turned into a blur of pain, and noise. 

He wonders vaguely if he’d passed out.  The next thing he can remember clearly is Chin calling his name.  And he was sitting on the road, his back against his truck, his weapon hanging loosely in his hand. 

Instinctive, he thinks.  He must have acted instinctively.  

Right now though his instincts are telling him they need backup.  _Right now_.

The black truck slewed across the road in front of them had at least four men in it.  Three are now dead or dying (probably dead, he corrects, risking another look over the top of the hood) but the remaining terrorist is doing a good job of keeping them pinned down.

Beyond him he can see the hood of the Camaro, the rest of the car hidden by the black truck.  There’s a dent in the front, a matching one in the truck, and despite himself Grover smiles:  Steve might pride himself on his driving skills but Danny has a few defensive manoeuvres of his own.

It hadn’t been enough though.

On the other side of the Camaro, just beyond Grover’s line of sight, there’s another black truck.  Bright flashes of gunfire reflect starkly in the black paint and he feels his heart beat ramp even higher, panic threatening to swamp his thought processes.  His friends are pinned down between the two trucks, under attack from two directions, defending an unconscious man. 

And they’re running out of ammo.

He turns towards Chin, too fast, and the world goes grey around the edges, nausea roiling in his gut.  Through his blurred vision he can see his friend’s expression morph from concerned into panicked and he forces himself to swallow down and breathe deeply.  “The Governor,” he forces out between desperate pants of air, “we need to—“

“Kono’s on it, brah,” Chin reassures him with a nod towards his cousin, before popping up to let off another stream of bullets.

He’s right he realises, slowly turning his head to the side.  Kono’s got her cell tucked up against her ear and she’s reeling off a set of instructions.

She’s getting help.

His knees nearly buckle with relief and he has to catch himself with his hands as a sharp stab of pain shoots through his head, almost sending his face down on the ground.

A bullet pings close to his head and with a flinch he pushes himself upright.  He’s dropped his gun he realises, his brain vaguely noting that the gun laying in front of him is his.  Angry with himself he reaches to pick it up, missing the first time, shovelling it towards himself with the edge of his hand on the second attempt.

“Stay.”  Blinking, he realises Chin is kneeling beside him, his hand resting on his, stopping him from raising his gun.  Suddenly Angelique appears in his line of sight and Chin is pushing her down beside him.  “Look after him,” he can hear his friend saying and his brain flips in confusion.  They’re supposed to be looking after her.  And Stanley.  Stanley, Steve and Danny are in the other car.  And they’re under fire.

Grover’s not aware he’s moved until Angelique’s hand tugs on his arm, pushing him back against the truck.  “They’re going after them,” she tells him, her expression scared.  Turning his head he already knows what he’ll see.  Chin and Kono are kneeling behind the back of his truck, sharing out the ammunition from Kono’s weapon.

“Chin…”

“Help’s on the way. “  It’s Kono who answers, leaning across to squeeze his arm reassuringly.  He twists round to grab her but she slips out of his grip before he can stop her from disappearing around the side of the truck.

It takes his injured brain a few more moments to understand where Kono and Chin have gone.

The sound of gunfire is only sporadic now.  That’s bad.  That’s very, _very_ bad.  If Danny and Steve were in any position to defend themselves there’d be a lot more activity.

Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck_.

Graphic images of what might be happening to his friends flood his brain.  Despite Angelique’s protests he pulls himself to his feet, leaning against his truck to balance himself.  Over the hood he can see Kono and Chin have made it to the next truck but they’re pinned down, hunkered over for cover.  There’s more gunfire now but the thing that draws his attention is the sound of the furthest truck’s engine revving up. 

They’re trying to get away.

Kono had said something about help coming, Grover can remember that much.  But it’s too late and his instincts are screaming at him that he can’t just stand by and watch as the men who have hurt his friends get away.

Forcing one foot in front of the other, he eases himself around his truck.  It takes every last bit of energy he has, every last bit of concentration, to focus through the grey fog of pain that’s taking over his mind.

He tells himself afterwards that’s why he doesn’t notice at first that there’s a car gunning up the road behind him.  It’s skidding to a halt beside his truck before he does realise what’s happening.  Turning, he expects to see armed soldiers or at least members of the Governor’s protection detail.

As the world wavers in and out around him the last thing he expects to see is the cab that collected the Rossos’ from the airport.  It’s still being driven by a man wearing a red baseball cap, a frayed t-shirt and boardies but now he’s carrying firearms and wearing a tac vest.  And he’s got a passenger in the front seat carrying similar military hardware.

As the strangers advance on his truck with their weapons drawn, shuffling towards him in a strange sideways crab-like motion that seems comfortingly familiar to his scrambled brain, his last thought is that he probably should defend himself.

Then everything goes black. 


	6. Chapter 6

Pain is the first thing he is aware of. Razor sharp, bone grinding pain radiating all the way down the left side of his head, centred just above his eye socket but spreading to the top of his head.  His blood feels like it’s pulsating in time with the pain, alerting him to the fact it’s not just a head injury he’s sporting.  A sharp intake of breath to smother a rapidly growing feeling of nausea confirms he’s broken at least one rib and probably cracked a few more.

He feels like he’s been hit by a truck.  An extremely large truck moving at speed.  Too tired to fight the pain he’s floating on the edge of unconsciousness when the first memory comes back to him.

A gun battle.  Chin and Kono disappearing from sight around his truck.  Angelique’s terrified eyes looking into his.  Stanley.  Steve.  Danny.

Floundering against the pain he pushes through the grey fog in his brain, trying to force his eyes open.  The strangers in the cab.  The Governor was supposed to be sending backup.  But they’d been running out of ammo.  And Steve and Danny had been pinned down, trapped by Nika’s men…

Nika’s men.

Grover stills instantly, warning bells going off in his head.  Sucking in a cautious breath he forces himself to relax against the pain, focusing instead on what he can discover about his surroundings without alerting anyone he’s awake.

He’s lying on a mattress, albeit a hard one, not the floor.  That’s got to be good, his concussed brain rationalises.  International terrorists wouldn’t bother supplying prisoners with comforts like a mattress and blanket (coarse and thin but he’s not cold so he’s probably still on the islands).  The air feels dry on his lips though and a sniff confirms it’s musty smelling too.  There’s a low, continuous humming noise which for a moment he’s convinced is inside his head.   When he finally figures out it’s an electric generator running in the background, the feeling of relief is immense.

Maybe he’s not as concussed as he thought.

He has to rethink that conclusion seconds later as he realises all the time he’s been trying to understand his surroundings there has been a low murmur of voices in the background.  Some way off, he can’t hear what they’re saying.  

Inwardly cursing himself he strains his senses, trying to find out if there’s anyone close by.  His instincts are telling him he’s alone but if this exercise has proved anything it’s that he’s not Steve McGarrett.  He’s not got a clue what he’s supposed to do if he has been captured by terrorists.  Steve hadn’t included that in the briefing notes.

Steve.

Clamping down on a hysterical giggle that’s threatening to erupt, he tries opening his eyes again.  His friends are in trouble and he’s laying here critiquing the accommodation like a reviewer on Trip Advisor.  The first attempt results in his brain being assaulted by a flash of bright, white light and he slams his eyes shut.  He’s about to try again when an angry voice breaks into the silence, making his body jerk in surprise.

“What the hell do you mean they’ve got Steve?”

The sudden movement is almost enough to send his brain spiralling back into darkness but it’s Danny’s voice he can hear and there are footsteps coming closer so he forces his eyes open again.  He only has a few seconds to take in the metal framed bed he’s lying on and the curtains on either side of his bed that are cutting off his view of the rest of the white walled room he’s in when one of the curtains is ripped back to reveal Danny.

“Jesus, Lou.”

The look of horror on Danny’s face is probably mirrored on his own, Grover thinks.  He knows his own face must be a mess if the pain is any indicator.  And he’s having a problem seeing out of his left eye which can’t be good.  

But Danny doesn’t look that hot either.  There’s a purple bruise blossoming across the left side of his face.  There’s a white medical dressing taped to the left hand side of his neck, another one on his left bicep.  But it’s the rest of his skin that draws Grover’s attention.  It’s marred with a network of bloody scrapes and bruises, on his face, his forearms and his hands.

Danny’s appearance double’s Grover’s sense of urgency as he pushes himself up on his pillows.  The world’s wavering in and out of focus but he pushes himself upright, preparing to swing his legs over the side of the bed.  Everything wobbles dangerously and he can’t stop himself groaning as his busted ribs protest about being hauled upwards.  “We’ve got to help Steve—“

“Whoa, Lou.  Take it easy.”

His vision on his left hand side must be seriously screwed, Grover thinks vaguely, as he turns towards the voice.  Chin’s standing right next to the bed.  Blinking owlishly his feeling of confusion grows when he realises Kono is standing behind Danny, a steadying hand on his shoulder.”

“Where did you come from?”

There’s a soft huff of laughter beside him but then he’s gently being pushed back down into the pillows and Grover goes willingly.  In front of him Danny looks like he’s running on empty so he’s glad to see Kono’s pushing him down into a chair, although his expression says he’s not so willing.  “We need to find Steve.--“

“We’ve got people looking, brah.”  Chin’s moved to perch on the end of the bed.  Leaning forward to speak to Danny, elbows resting on his knees, his eyes are full of compassion.  "I promise."

Danny's shaking his head vehemently even before Chin's finished talking.  "You can't promise.  Last time one of bastards got him... You know what happened last time."  When he looks up his eyes are full of fear.  "He can't go through that again, Chin."

Neither can his partner, Grover thinks, his heart clenching painfully at the broken sound of Danny's voice.  Grover 's only heard snippets of information about their more classified cases before he joined Five-0, shared with him by Kono and Chin in empty bars late at night when they've needed each other's company after a long, hard day.  Danny's face says it all though and he looks away, unable to face the heart-felt pain in the eyes of McGarrett's partner.

"We're looking for him--"

"Who's looking for him?" Danny's getting more agitated by the second, only Kono's hand on his shoulder is keeping in his seat.  "If we're all here--"

"Just let him explain, okay?"  Kono's jumped in this time but her tone is soft, understanding.  "Steve needs us to keep focused.  We can do this.  But we need a plan."

Grover feels himself relax slightly as Danny leans back in chair.  He gives him a moment to get more comfortable, pretending not to watch as he bites back a wince with every shuffle.

Finally Grover asks the question that's been bugging him since he woke up.  "What happened?"

Chin and Kono share a glance but it's obvious from the frown on her face that she's expecting him to do the talking.  With a deep sigh he concedes, twisting his body so that he can see everyone from his perch on the bed.

"I don't know how much you can remember, Lou?  You were pretty out of it after you were shot."

Automatically Grover lifts his hand to his head, stilling with surprise when his fingers brush across a fabric dressing.  "What the hell..."

Kono leans over to stop him worrying at it, pulling his hand down carefully.  "Don't touch it, they've only just changed it."  Leaning back she includes Danny in her gaze.  "They had a sniper waiting for us.  A bullet clipped your head.  Danny was shot in the arm."

There's a tiny part of him that rejoices when Danny looks down at his arm, obviously equally confused.  "Who's they?" he hears himself ask.  It's like his brain is picking questions at random but his headache is making it way too difficult to string together a coherent conversation or even process the answers he's being given.  Kono and Chin are going to have to do the heavy lifting on this one.

"We're in the Governor's emergency bunker," Chin explains, indicating the white-washed concrete floors and walls with a wave of his hand.  "The medical personnel are from Tripler."

"So the Governor sent help?  You managed to radio out?"

To his surprise Grover realises he can answer Danny's question, or at least part of it.  The few memories he does have are starting to slot together.  "Kono radioed out before she and Chin tried to get to you and Steve.  I can't remember much after that."

"I'm surprised you can remember anything at all," Chin replies with a grimace.  "That was one hell of a hit to the head you took.  We thought you might be out for much longer than this."   _ _Much__  longer, Grover guesses, judging by the worried look Chin shares with his cousin.

"So, you call for help and the Governor's troops come rescue us?" Danny hazards, his face scrunched into a painful scowl.  

With a deep sigh Chin answers him.  "Not exactly, brah."  Shooting a worried glance at Kono, he raises his hands to placate them as they open their mouths to ask what the hell that means.  "I'll explain.  But first Danny, we need to know what happened to you and Steve."

Danny glares at him for a moment, his lips pursed together in a tight line, his body radiating impatience. They're wasting time his body language is screaming but with a tired huff he capitulates, leaning forward to carefully reposition himself in the chair.  "Like you said, there was a shot, I lost control of the car.  I guess I must have hit my head on the steering wheel because the next thing I know Steve's yelling at me to get out of the car."

“How many of them were there?”

Chin’s approaching this like a police interview, Grover realises, and Danny is responding in kind, his expression reflective as he works out how to respond.   “Five,” he answers finally, his fingers tapping out an impatient rhythm on his knee.  “Steve took out one of them straight away but they knew what they were doing.  All we could do was try and find cover, they had us surrounded.  The radio was out, we tried to conserve ammo…”

“But…?” 

Grover feels his adrenaline levels rising as Danny runs his hand over his face, seemingly oblivious to the pain he must be causing himself.  "It was like they weren’t trying to hit us.  Steve thought that they were trying to draw us out so we stuck close to the car.  For a while there I thought we had them…”

“…but then you ran out of ammo.”

“Yeah.”  Danny’s sigh is laced with exhaustion and Grover feels his heart clench in sympathy.  “That’s when things got really weird.” He pauses, causing them to look at each other in confusion.  “They decided to beat the shit out of us.”

“They fought you?” Grover hears himself ask doubtfully.  “You and Steve?”

“Yeah.  Strange, huh?”

“Stupid is what I’d call it,” he retorts incredulously, already imagining in his mind how that would work out.  Steve’s a trained killer, with or without a gun.  And Danny’s no slouch when it comes to a fist fight.  There’s a long list of criminals in Hawaii who’ve stupidly assumed short equals pushover.  Why the hell would Nika take that kind of risk?

“They needed you alive.”

“Fuck.”  It’s Danny who’s uttered the expletive at Kono’s quietly spoken statement and he’s pushing up and away from her, one hand tucked protectively around his middle, the other cutting through the air as he starts pacing.  “Fuck.  I told him this was a bad idea.  I  _told him—“_

“And you can tell him again when we find him.”  

“Chin…”  Danny sounds angry, Grover notes, but his eyes are pleading.  Pleading for them to help his partner.  He's trembling too and it doesn’t take much effort for Kono to guide him back towards the chair.  Leaning forward, Chin clasps his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.  “Tell us what happened next.”

“They were good,” Danny continues finally, his voice muffled by his hand over his face.  “I tried…they were so fast.  Steve had them but…the idiot kept trying to get back to me…and Stanley was still in the car…”

“Where are Stanley and Angelique?” Grover doesn’t realise he’s the one who’s spoken until three pairs of eyes turn towards him.  He’s not even sure how he didn’t notice their absence until now.  

“They took him too, Lou,” Kono explains worriedly, like she’s reassuring a sick child.  He’s starting to dread what he’s going to see when he looks in the mirror.  “Angelique is in one piece but terrified for Stanley.  The Governor’s staff are looking after her.”

“But we think that probably means Stanley was still alive when they took him.  They haven’t got any use for a dead body.”  

Chin’s assessment is brutal but honest and he finds himself nodding.  Instantly he regrets his decision as his headache swirls around his head in a sick wave effect.  For a second he shuts his eyes, breathes through his nose, wills himself not to throw up.  When he looks up again Kono’s watching him closely, a deep frown on her face.  Chin’s still resting a steadying hand on Danny’s shoulder.  Danny who’s also suddenly turned a couple of shades paler.

Nobody wants to find a dead body.  

To his horror his damaged brain starts supplying him with images of just that.  And it’s not Stanley he’s thinking about.  His stomach roils, the bitter taste of bile suddenly filling his mouth.  Panicking he puts his hand to his mouth, groaning as the movement tugs at this ribs.

“Whoa.”  There’s a cup being pushed into his hand, Kono’s slim fingers wrapping around his, helping him to pour cool water between his lips.  He drinks gratefully, giving himself a moment to catch his breath.  On the other side of the bed Danny’s been given a cup too but he’s not drinking, staring sightlessly at it instead.

His friend’s finger nails are dark with dried, crusted blood, Grover notices with a jolt of shock.  Now that he’s looking, looking properly, it’s obvious he’s been in a fight for his life.

“They had tasers,”  Danny announces into the silence, not moving his attention away from his hands.  “I saw it coming but I couldn’t stop him…Steve saw it too.  They tried to put him down but…he kept on getting up…Jesus…”  He falters, rubbing a hand over his face again but this time he winces, examining his hand with detached interest as it comes away with fresh blood on it.  “I tried…”

“We’ll get him back.  We will.”

“He’s  _injured_ , Chin.  Nika’s  _got_  him.”

“We’re working on it—“

"You keep saying 'we' but we're just sitting here talking!"  Struggling to his feet Danny sways slightly, reaching out blindly to grab the edge of the chair.  "I'm going to talk to the Governor, ask him to speak to the CIA.  Baker's on this island somewhere and he's our best chance of finding Steve."

"We're already on it, brah."  Up on his feet, Chin's swapping nervous glances with Kono again and Grover feels a curl of dread stirring in the pit of his stomach.  There's something here that the cousins aren't telling them.  And it's something that Danny's really not going to like.

He's on the verge of asking (not for the first time that day) what the hell is going when the sound of a door opening interrupts him.  Chin leans back to look around the edge of his curtain and his expression turns from nervous to resigned, his shoulders dropping as he lets out a loud huff of air.  "Come in guys.  We were just about to tell them about you."

Interest piqued he pushes himself further up the bed, ignoring the pain it causes.  Danny's scowling, the skin around his eyes pinched and grey but at least he's stopped moving.

When the curtains are pulled back, revealing two men, it takes him a few seconds to catch on who they are.  Danny's doing the same, Grover notices, his eyes flicking over them slowly, processing.

"You're the cab driver," Danny announces with a stab of his finger.  He's right, Grover realises with a start, mentally removing the red cap and frayed tee-shirt, replacing them with the smarter outfit of blue jeans and a grey shirt that the stranger is now wearing.  "And I've seen your face somewhere too..." he adds thoughtfully, staring at the second man.

"You were both there when we were ambushed," Grover offers slowly, still trying to process his own mixed up memories.  "After we called for help.  They weren't with Nika's men," he adds quickly as Danny's expression morphs into anger.

His effort to calm his friend fails miserably.  "Anyone wanna tell me what's going on?" Danny asks, his voice dangerously low, his gaze switching between Kono and Chin who are looking increasingly nervous. With a grunt of annoyance he gives up on both of them, striding over to the strangers instead, pinning them to the spot with his stare.

It would be comical, Grover thinks vaguely, if the situation weren't so urgent.  Both of the strangers tower over Danny but despite being physically well-built men, it's obvious his friend is the one in charge.

The scene is so familiar he does have to bite back a smile anyway.  It's like witnessing one of Danny and Steve's arguments, just after McGarrett has performed some SEAL-like feat of bravery that's sent his partner postal.

Steve.

The thought throws him back to the last few minutes of the ambush, his brain scrambling to sew together the last few scraps of memories.  The gunfire, the two strangers jumping out of the cab, the way they approached his position, the strange sideways crab manoeuvre with their guns raised...

"I'm going to kill him."  

Danny's sharp, angry retort drags him rudely back to the present.  The younger man is pacing again, fingers running through his hair.  Grover can't help thinking that's gotta hurt but then his attention is drawn back to the strangers.  Guilt is written over both their faces and Kono and Chin look resigned to whatever fate they've been expecting.  "I still don't get it," he confesses, blinking hard as his headache makes itself known again.

"My whack-job, control freak of a partner has been lying to us,” Danny grounds out, with an aggressive wave of his hand towards the strangers.  “Lou, let me introduce you to Lieutenant Mike O’Neill and Chief Petty Officer Luke Brown.  They were with Steve on the mission in Afghanistan.”

Grover knows he's opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish but he's incapable of doing anything else.  His limited vision is still hampering him so it takes him a few moments to actually see what Danny is telling him.  The pictures Steve had shown them of his team in Afghanistan were of bearded, exhausted soldiers, haunted by what they'd seen.  A good few pounds heavier now with clean-shaven, healthy complexions, he guesses they haven't seen action on the frontline recently.

The haunted shadows still linger in their eyes though.  It's the same look Steve's been wearing since they started this case.

Eyebrows raised, Danny's back to glaring at the two men.   "So, for the benefit of those of us who weren't conscious for the whole of this truly fucked up day, you want to explain what you're doing here?"

"Danny, maybe you should sit down--"

"Chin, I can tell by your faces I'm not going to like this so please, let's get it over with and move on.  I can kill Steven later.  After we've rescued him."

Standing at parade rest (and that is what they're doing, Grover realises, his brain suddenly seeing all the familiar Navy characteristics that Steve normally displays) the two men are watching the conversation closely.  Sharing a quick glance they seem to come to silent agreement.

"Commander McGarrett...Steve...brought us in to protect you," O’Neill reports, his gaze locked at a point several inches above Danny's head.  "We had instructions to follow you to the hospital but to only offer assistance if you were under threat."

The Lieutenant seems satisfied with his report, Grover notices, but the rise of colour in Danny's face suggests he's anything but.  " _Under threat_?  You didn't think we were under threat when they fired at us.  Or when they kidnapped Steve and Rosso?”

The taller of the two men – Luke Brown, Grover corrects himself – studies Danny closely for a moment.  Suddenly his face lights up with comprehension.  “You must be Detective Williams?  Danny? Steve said you’d be angry but he was very clear—“

Just as Grover is wondering whether being a Navy SEAL has deprived the man of any sense of self preservation, O’Neill nudges him hard with his elbow and he stutters to a halt.  “Look, what Luke means is we understand why you are upset but we did what we were ordered to do.”

“Upset?” Eyebrows raised, Danny’s voice is dripping with sarcasm.  “Yeah, yeah I’m upset.  You failed.  Mission _not_ accomplished.”

Both SEALs look offended, their shoulders lifting defensively.  “We protected you.  We extracted you and returned you to a place of safety.  That is what we were tasked to do.”  Brown’s tone is sharp, his eyes narrowed, cold as ice.  It’s a trick Steve uses sometimes to scare the hell out of people, Grover realises, but Brown’s chosen the wrong person to play games with.  Hands on hips Danny steps forward.  And then he steps forward again.

Hesitantly the SEALs step back.

“You. Screwed.  Up.”

O’Neill reaches up to still Danny’s index figure which is stabbing each word into his chest.  Lightly but insistently he pushes Danny’s hand back down.  “We didn’t. Steve told us to protect you.  That’s what we did.”

Eyes narrowed, his bottom lip stuck out in thought, Danny studies him.  “So, who was protecting Steve?”

Both men look away guiltily and Grover feels something clench painfully in his stomach.  There’s something very wrong here and he just wishes his head would clear so he could think this out.  Head tilted, Danny silently waits them out.  

“We’ve explained,” they offer finally, still not looking at the smaller man.  “That wasn’t what we were told to do.”

“Did Steve know,” Chin asks slowly, with a frown, “that Nika would try to get to him?  Is that why he asked you to protect us?”

Danny flinches at the words.  It’s tiny, barely there, but Grover sees it none the less.  He can see the way his jaw is working too, can hear the way he’s grinding out his words.  “Did he?”

For a second it looks like the SEALs won’t respond but then there’s a flicker of recognition in their eyes, an acknowledgment, Grover guesses, of the raw pain in Danny’s voice.  “We discussed it,” Brown explains with a resigned sigh, his gaze sweeping across the room to encompass them all.  “Steve was worried they would use you to get to him.  He wanted to minimise the risk.”  

There’s silence for a second, a cold hard silence that makes Grover shiver.  And then Danny explodes. 

“You  _ _discussed__  it?” he spits out, his hands in the air, miming out his disbelief in short, sharp thrusts. “How does that conversation go?  ‘Oh, hey guys, there’s an international terrorist who might, who __might__ , be out to kidnap me but everything will be fine’.  Is that how it goes?  Or did you, maybe, just maybe, have an  _actual_  plan?”

Brown strikes back instantly, his face twisted with anger.  “Hey, why are you so angry?!” 

“Luke—“

“No!”  Brown shrugs off the calming hand that O’Neill’s placed on his shoulder.  “Steve offered them a way out and they stayed.   _They_  fucked this plan up!  We could have handled this on our own and now this guy’s giving us--.”

“A way  _ _out__?!  Where the hell do you get off--“

“Danny!”  Chin’s on his feet, pulling Danny back and the younger man goes, pulling away with a grunt of anger to start pacing again.  Arm tucked around his ribs it’s obvious he’s hurting.  Grover feels himself wince in sympathy.  

Chin watches him with concern before turning back to the SEALs.  “What else did Steve tell you?”

“He couldn’t figure out why they’d bought Rosso to Hawaii,” O’Neill explains quietly.  “It didn’t make sense.  They didn’t need Steve to make this operation work.  The only reasons he could think of were that the CIA thought Rosso wasn’t a big enough lure, so they’d sweeten the deal with the chance to capture a Navy SEAL who’d been involved in the original mission.  Or they needed someone to take the blame if anything went wrong.  His money was on the second one.”

“They’d done it before.  No reason to think they wouldn’t do it again.”  It’s Brown who spits out the words, words laced with bitterness and hurt.  It’s enough to cut through the animosity in the room, making everybody sit up and listen.  There’s a moment of silence before Danny steps forward, one hand raised in silent question:

Again?

O’Neill lets out slow breath before explaining.  “Steve said he’d told you there was an official inquiry.  It was obvious the bastards were trying to hide something.  They dragged all of us over the coals, but especially Steve.”  Head sinking, he runs his fingers through his close-cropped hair.  “They didn’t care about finding out what happened to Ed.  What they did care about was making sure the report made it sound like Steve was responsible for the death of those civilians.”

“And was he?” Danny drops into the heavy pause that follows, his tone colder than Grover can ever remember hearing it before.  “We’ve heard the rumours about what happened—“

“Of course he wasn’t!”  Brown’s moving, his face twisted with heat and anger as he reaches for Danny.  He’s stopped instantly as O’Neill grabs hard and reels him back in, twisting his arm with a sharp tug that makes him wince and then still.   “Don’t be an idiot, Luke.  He’s testing us.  Isn’t that right, Detective Williams…Danny?  He wants to know if he can trust us.  Whether  _ _they__  can trust us with Steve’s life.”

“And can we?”  Grover hears the words coming out of his mouth even while he’s still thinking them.  He’d put it down to the headache that’s still blurring his thoughts and vision but the reality is that frustration is pushing him on.  It feels like they’ve been talking forever.  And Steve’s out there somewhere, injured.  He understands Danny’s suspicions that this might be yet another double cross by the CIA, that his concern about Steve is fuelling his anger against the SEALs but they need to be  _moving_.

“For Christ’s sake, we’re wasting time.  You know who we are,” Brown shoots back at him, pulling away from his friend with an angry shove before turning for the door.  “We didn’t have to come here.   _ _Steve__  asked us. If you don’t want to work with us then screw you.  But we’re not leaving him with Nika.” 

“He’s right.”  Danny’s voice stops Brown in his tracks.  He’s still watching the two SEALs closely, his expression thoughtful, but he’s nodding his head.  Short sharp nods that signal he’s come to some sort of decision.  With a loud huff he smooths out his hair with an impatient sweep of the palms of his hands before pulling himself upright.  “Chin.  You said we were already looking for Steve and Stanley?”

There’s a note of authority in his voice that has everybody else sitting up straight as well.  “Naval intelligence are checking all the surveillance and road cameras in the local area,” Chin explains quietly. “The Governor’s not happy that the CIA have let Nika kidnap the head of his task force along with an ex-member of the Government on his island,” he adds when Danny raises an eyebrow.  “He’s calling in every favour he’s got.”

So at least they have some backup now, Grover thinks, pushing down the sudden flare of anger he feels towards Baker and his CIA colleagues. They’ll make sure Baker gets what’s coming to him.  

After they’ve got Steve back.

“If the gloves are off is the Navy going to give us a SEAL team too?” he asks, the thought suddenly occurring to him as he pushes himself up the bed, preparing to move once they’ve decided what to do.

The two SEALs in the room look uncomfortable with his suggestion though and he feels his heart sink.  “We’re not active service anymore,” O’Neill explains, looking away but not before Grover sees the flash of sorrow in his eyes.

For a second he's back on Steve's lanai, talking about Freddie and guilt and honour and running away and wishing he had more to offer his friend than just words.  Who, he wonders, do people like O'Neill and Brown get to talk to?  

Even the strongest people eventually bow under pressure.  Even people like Steve.  Especially when people like Nika are applying the pressure.

“So what were you two planning to do?”  Danny asks, breaking into his thoughts, thankfully dragging him away from the dark, dark place his brain is taking him.  “Actually, you know what?  Don't tell me," he adds with a sharp wave of his hands. "I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.”

“We’re just tourists,” Brown explains anyway, his lips flicking slightly upwards in a tooth-filled, feral smile.  “If we just happen to come across someone who needs help then…”

“Then you’ll cause havoc and mayhem in Hawaii,” Danny replies with a long suffering sigh.  “God, you are McGarrett.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Detective.”  

O’Neill’s proud, determined declaration is met with soft chuckles of agreement, breaking the tension in the room like a magic spell.  It’s like they’ve collectively taken a deep breath and let it out, Grover thinks as his own body relaxes minutely as he swings his feet to the floor.  

They’re all here for one person.  Now all they have to do is get him back.

But first  _ _he__  needs to get his clothes back.

The random thought pops into his head as the bare flesh of his legs appear from under the sheets.  Danny’s wearing scrubs too, he realises, already scanning the room for his own clothes.  That small movement is enough to make his head spin but he takes a deep breath, determined to not let it beat him.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?"

Kono's standing right beside him, a sympathetic but determined expression on her face.  Before he can say anything Danny disappears around the curtain, reappearing a moment later with two bags of clothes.

"We're going to see the Governor," he states emphatically, tossing Grover his bag of clothes before opening his own and pulling out his pants and a scrunched up shirt.  A blood stained scrunched up shirt, Grover corrects mentally, as Danny discards the top of his scrubs and with Kono's help pulls it on with jerky, painful movements.  "And then our McGarrett Mini-Mes's are going to tell us what their plan is to get Steve back," he continues, not missing a beat us he swaps his pants, leaning briefly on the chair as he wobbles precariously, "because right now we need SuperSEAL's experience and these two clones are the closest thing we've got.  Anyone got any questions?"

Danny's not really looking for an answer.  They've been working together long enough to know that, Grover thinks.  So it's natural for four pairs of eyes to turn towards O'Neill and Brown in question instead.

"No questions," O'Neill replies, meeting their stares with one of his own.  "What?" he queries with a shrug as Danny raises his eyebrows in disbelief.  "Steve told us we could trust you.  He's the least trusting person we know."

When Danny's head dips down sharply, his arms drifting around his midriff in a protective pose, Grover finds himself looking away again.  Kono's biting her lip, her eyes suspiciously bright, he notices, as he struggles to find somewhere else to look.  Turning to the other side of the cubicle offers him no respite either: Chin's staring fixedly at his boots, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.

O'Neill's casually delivered compliment hasn't left him unaffected either, Grover realises, swallowing down a sudden swell of emotion.  He'd always assumed that at some point he'd gained his friend's trust.  But to have it laid out in such simple, stark terms was humbling.

McGarrett had gifted them with his trust.  He never wanted to betray that trust.

"So what we all waiting for?" he snaps out, pulling his own shirt out of the bag and getting ready to put it on.  "You heard the man, let's get this show on the road."

It occurs to him a few minutes later that there’s an element of false bravado in his words.  The world’s still spinning at a weird angle and his headache suggests that there’s an army of very small angry men trying to hammer their way out.  It takes another shot of pain killers from a very efficient Army medic from Tripler before he can actually put his feet on the ground without keeling over.

Danny still doesn’t look any better.

To his surprise it’s O’Neill he finds standing by his elbow when he takes his first few faltering steps around the bed.  Chin is standing off to one side talking quietly to Brown.  It’s like they’ve reached some unspoken working agreement and that’s just fine with him.

There was a time not so long ago that Steve trusted these men with his life, Grover reflects, in often much more difficult situations than he’s faced since returning to Hawaii.  Hell, Steve had trusted them with all their lives today.  And they’d delivered.

If Steve hadn’t been such a stubborn son of a bitch they might have got him out of there too.  

Essentially putting himself up as bait to protect his team had been an incredibly dumb idea.  There was, Grover reflected, going to be a very long queue behind Danny, waiting to kick’s McGarrett’s arse. 

He quashes the errant thought angrily, filing it away to consider later.  Afghanistan and the death of their friend obviously left a deep mark on the three men.  Possibly it’s colouring their judgement right now.  But they’re all in this together.  He’ll worry about the details later.

Once they get Steve back.

Around him he can sense everyone else coming to the same decision.  There’s a feeling of determination in the air, a hard-edged focus.  It’s what gets him moving, enables him to put one foot in front of the other, to follow the team as they head for the door.

They’re almost there, only a couple of paces away, when the door ahead opens to reveal the Governor’s personal assistant, Lani, waiting for them.   Her expression is pinched, weary and the look she gives them all is full of regret and sympathy. 

Grover instantly feels his stomach roil.

Behind him he hears Danny whisper, “No.”

“They’ve both still alive,” Lani blurts out, reaching over to reassure Danny with a touch of her hand.  “But Nika’s definitely got them.  He’s transmitting a video,” she explains, her words fading away to a shaky whisper.  “You need to come and see.”

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Two weeks later, when he’s recounting to the HPD counsellor what he’d felt as he'd walked back into the Governor's incident room, it was the silence that Grover had chosen to tell him about.  Denning had been surrounded by a group of staffers and military personnel, the previously dusty, unused incident room clearly back in full use.  But they were all worryingly silent, their faces turned towards the screen on the wall where 48 hours before they’d listened to Agent Baker telling them about McGarrett's mission in Afghanistan.

Even then, fourteen days later, sharing just that small part of what he’d felt was enough to send a shiver down his spine, causing his skin to break out in goose bumps.

The reality of what happened when he’d walked into the room had been worse. 

There’d been times in his career when he’d suffered flashbacks.  Memories overlapping reality, triggering images so raw and painful they seemed real.  Walking into the incident room, with Kono and Chin either side of him and Danny striding ahead, had triggered one of those flashbacks.

Maybe it was the head injury, he’d wondered later, messing with his mind, tapping into the fear he was feeling for his missing friend.  Whatever it was, for a moment he’d been catapulted back to the last time Steve had been captured.  Back to another time when he’d walking behind Danny as his friend marched ahead, his body tightly coiled with anger, looking for a fight, his expression almost grateful as his fist had connected solidly with the face of Wo Fat’s guard.  Propelled by his own rage he’d followed Danny down the back stairs of the Dry Cleaners, his fury turning to sinister pleasure as more of Wo Fat’s men fell. 

And then they’d discovered Steve in the dungeon, Wo Fat’s body beside him.

Some of the crime scene reports he’d read at the time had described it as a cell.  He’d corrected them.  It was a dungeon.  A place designed for torture, to inflict pain.  He could smell it in the air when he’d stayed behind to secure the area.  Pain and fear and blood.

It’s something he’s tried to forget.

As the Governor and his staff stand aside so they can see the screen the memory comes back to him like a physical blow, the smell of blood suddenly strong in his nostrils.

Steve and Rosso are on the screen.  They’re alive, Grover’s brain notes vaguely.  But that’s as good as it gets.  His stomach rolls so hard with fear and anger that he has to force himself not to gag.  Beside him Kono sucks in a sharp breath and when her hand searches out his he grabs it hard, squeezing and pulling her closer.

Tied to chairs, Steve and Rosso have been placed front and centre of the camera that he imagines is filming them. His head pulled back, lolling loosely to one side, Steve is unconscious.  The fight that Danny had described to them is imprinted on his body, blood and bruising marring every inch of visible skin.  The awkward angle of his left shoulder suggests a dislocation or broken collar bone.  But at least he’s breathing, Grover thinks, forcing his brain to focus on the factual rather than the horrifying image in front of him.

Beside him Stanley is conscious but only just.  That, Grover acknowledges, is better than when he last saw Stanley, as Steve and Danny were preparing to drive him to the hospital.  His skin is still grey though, his lips tinged blue. There’s an IV in his arm, leading to a bag of liquid hooked on a pole beside his chair.  He’s curled in on himself, or as much as he can be with the restraints holding him in the chair.  And he’s humming quietly, Grover realises, like a scared child retreating to a safe place in their head.

Steve’s not the only one who’s had to live through something like this before, he suddenly remembers.

Forcibly dragging his eyes away from the two men on the screen he studies their surroundings.  Apart from the lights illuminating the area around their chairs they’re in complete darkness.  White boards propped up in front of the two men announce their names and backgrounds.  McGarrett’s includes his number of confirmed terrorist kills.  Whether the number’s right or not it’s a breath-catching high number, Grover notes.  Stanley’s includes some of the anti-terrorist initiatives he’s supported during his career.

To the right audience these statistics would be a source of pride, the successes of two men who have both worked in their own way to defend their country.

This video won’t be going to the right audience though.

“Oh Jesus.”

It’s Danny who’s broken the silence.  The two simple words laden with desperation shatter the stillness around them.  People start moving again, their sharp, controlled steps radiating urgency. 

“Can you track it?  This feed must be coming from somewhere.”  Hand on hips O’Neill’s staring at the screen like a hawk, his expression calculating, his tone calm.  Grover doesn’t know whether to punch him for his lack of emotion or ask him how the hell he’s managing to do it.   Beside him Kono and Chin’s tense expressions suggest they’re thinking the same.  His gaze fixed on his partner on the screen, Danny seems oblivious to the atmosphere around him.

His expression is chillingly intense, Grover thinks.  It’s like he’s trying to reach across to Steve with the power of his gaze alone.

“The last transmission was only a minute long,” someone pipes up from the other side of the room.  Their uniform suggests Naval Intelligence, the metal insignia above their row of ribbons confirms it.  “It wasn’t long enough, the signal is being bounced from point to point.   We’ve almost got it again so we’ll just—oh shit.”

The expletive is uttered as the screen goes blank.  Danny jerks back like he’s received an electric shock.  “What the hell…get it back!”

“We can’t.”  Denning’s tone is sympathetic as he pulls up a chair beside them, indicating with a nod of his head they should all do the same.  They all resist for a moment, their desperate need to be _doing_ something overriding their compulsion to obey the Governor but finally, awkwardly, they comply.  Danny’s the last to sit, barely hiding a wince as he takes his seat.  They’ve ended up in a crude half circle facing the screen, Grover notes, even though there’s nothing to see.  

Turning away would feel like a betrayal. 

“Nika is controlling the feed,” Denning continues.  “We’re only going to get to see what he wants us to see--” 

“--While he continues to show the whole video to his terrorist network,” Brown interrupts, sharp bitterness colouring his words. 

“What?”  Frowning is a bad move Grover realises as pain shoots through the left hand side of his face.  “Then why aren’t we just tracking the other feed, the one that’s running now?”

“We’re trying,” the Governor confirms with a tired sigh, nodding in the direction of the military staff huddled over laptops in the corner of the room.  “Pearl Hickham are on it too.  But Nika’s not an idiot.  He got through to this screen and this one only.  This is supposed to be a secure location.” 

“Shit.”  Grover lets the word out on a deep sigh of his own.  Every new piece of information they receive just confirms how much they’ve been played, by Nika and Agent Baker.  A wave of tiredness hits him and he can’t stop himself from slumping in his chair, making his ribs protest painfully. 

“Lani, please can you get everyone something to drink.  And see if you can find some food.  They look exhausted.” 

“We’re not staying.”  Danny rejects Denning’s offer with a dismissive swipe of his hand, tensing to rise from his seat. 

“Yes, we are.”  It’s O’Neill who’s spoken but it’s Chin who’s placed a steadying hand on his friend’s arm.  “He’s right, Danny.”

The smaller man pulls away from both of them, the anger he’s feeling obvious in the way he easily shrugs them both off.  “We can’t just sit here while Steve…while…we can’t.” 

Danny’s tone is raw agony.  Grover swallows down hard against his own emotions as they threaten to overwhelm him.  He risks a glance around the semi-circle, noticing how Chin and Kono have all their attention on their friend.  O’Neill and Brown are sharing uneasy glances with the Governor though.  When he raises his eyebrows in question, glaring at each of them in turn, Brown’s shoulders fold in defeat.

“We probably are going to know what happens to Steve and Rosso,” he offers reluctantly, looking down at his boots, his forehead creased in a deep frown.  “It’s what they do,” he continues after a pause, his words dragging on a long inhale of breath.  “They’ll show us enough so we’ll think we know what’s happening but they won’t let us see it all.”

“It’s another way of…distracting…us,” O’Neill cuts in, choosing his words carefully.  “Nika wants us to be thinking about…about what we can’t see instead of focusing on finding him.”

When Danny gets up this time, his chair tipping over as he shoves it back, no one stops him.  With a small nod to the guards at the door Denning lets him go, putting up his hand when O’Neill opens his mouth to protest.  “Let’s give him a minute.  He won’t go far.  There’s armed guards at every entrance.  And…he knows the video is going to come back on.”

Nika’s plan is already working Grover realises, his own anger growing as he watches the guards close the doors behind Danny.  The screen’s still blank but it feels like it’s looming over them, a silent threat, and his fight or flight instinct has kicked in.  The fight part of him knows he should stay and look at it, is screaming at him that he should.  That’s his friend in that room and any small detail could help get him back so he should be looking, he should be looking real close, no matter how hard that gets.

But the flight side – that’s yelling too.  It’s reminding him how Wo Fat’s dungeon had given him nightmares, how his brain had conjured up images of what had happened to Steve, even though he hadn’t actually been there himself.  His brain doesn’t want a front-row seat to whatever Nika’s got planned and it’s telling him to get off his ass and go back to HQ because good old-fashioned police work is going to get Steve back and they’re running out of time.

Kono’s watching him closely, the indecision she’s feeling clear in the way she’s biting her lip.   Even Chin with his constant aura of calm is looking undecided.  They should get Danny and talk this through, Grover thinks.  Naval Intelligence and the two ex-SEALs might be experts in terrorism but _they’re_ experts on Oahu.  So while Nika is grandstanding with his video they need to be figuring where the _fuck_ the man is.

He’s on the verge of telling Chin and Kono that, of grabbing Danny and setting up their own HQ in a room somewhere if the Governor really isn’t going to let them go when the screen flickers into life and the video comes back on. 

Abdul Nasheed Nika is centre stage now, standing between the two chairs.  The Taliban leader looks unbelievably healthy for a 65 year old who’s been on the run for over a decade from intelligence organisations from across the globe, Grover thinks, his lips curling up in disgust. 

Around the same height as McGarrett he’s carrying at least half as much bodyweight again, a fact that’s not hidden by the tight-fitting tan coloured camouflage uniform he’s wearing.  Arms outstretched, his hands are resting on the shoulders of his captives.  Steve’s still unconscious and ignorant, Grover hopes, to the pantomime being acted out around him.  Stanley isn’t so lucky.  Staring straight at the camera, his body rigid, fear is written across his face. 

Slowly Nika leans forward to stretch his arms out further, sweeping them up into a macabre group hug.  His eyes, full of amusement, come up to look straight into the camera.  His knuckles whiten as he tightens his hold.  Beside him Steve groans, his head falling forward when he shifts.  Stanley whimpers in distress, shifting his injured leg, his discomfort clear.

“Don’t.”  With a start Grover realises he’s now standing, fists tightly clenched, the chair forgotten behind him.  His heart is thudding so hard it feels like it’s going to explode from the pressure inside his chest.  It’s a sharp pain in his arm that’s stopped him from hitting anything: Danny’s standing beside him, his fingers are digging into his skin.  “Save it.  You’ll need it for later.  When we find this son of a bitch.”

The sound of footsteps flicks their attention back to the screen, just in time to see another man appear out of the shadows, plastic buckets in both hands, the sound of swishing water sharp and loud in the now near silent room.  Grover knows he’s not the only one who instinctively opens his mouth to shout a warning but the water’s already being poured over Steve’s head.

The effect is instantaneous.  With a grunt of pain his friend’s eyes flicker open.  They dart around anxiously, struggling to focus or understand.  As the other bucket of water engulfs him his body tenses in pain as he splutters through the deluge. 

As the room fills with the sound of his efforts to get air into his lungs, Nika steps forward, pulling his head back, forcing Steve to meet his eyes.  Pink rivulets of blood and water are flowing down his friend’s face.  Blinking furiously he struggles against the other man’s grip, his lips thinning in pain as Nika places his hand back on his injured shoulder and squeezes.

O’Neill swears furiously under his breath and turns away from the screen.  Retrieving his cell from his pocket he stabs at the screen a few times before walking off, talking in an angry whisper.  Grover considers following for a moment until Danny shifts the grip on his arm.  When he looks down Danny is watching O’Neill too, his expression cautious.  With a grunt he looks away, his expression morphing to anger as he turns back to the screen.  “Just let him do whatever he needs to do,” is all he offers as he realises Grover is still watching him.

There might be some logic in that, Grover thinks, but for a second he feels jealous that O’Neill’s got something to _do_.  Beside him Danny’s leaning towards the screen, his shoulders hunched, the seams of his bloodied shirt straining against the pressure they’re under.  He’s not even sure Danny’s aware he’s doing it but Grover empathises with him.  Steve’s pain and confusion is already _crushing_ him and he desperately wants to reach out through the screen and reassure his friend. 

“Can they hear or see us?” It’s his injured brain talking, Grover thinks, as Denning shakes his head, indicating the transmission is one way.  He already knew the answer but it’s desperation that made him ask.  If Steve could see them maybe that would help him get through whatever Nika has got planned. 

Or maybe not, his sluggish brain corrects him, as he looks around the faces of his friends.  Their expressions can only be described as stoic but the pain in their eyes gives them away.  Steve doesn’t need to see that.  Nothing would upset his friend more.

Except Steve’s not an idiot.  He’s gonna figure out what Nika’s done.  If Nika doesn’t tell him first of course.

_Fuck_.

On the screen Nika tightens his grip, pulling hard.  The two men are frozen for a moment, Nika’s lips quirked up in a half smile, Steve’s still blinking back at him, his body twisted painfully in the chair, trying to escape his hold.  They seem stuck there, like some obscene exhibition at a side-show, the torturer and the victim caught in a snapshot of their fight.  But suddenly Steve blinks once and then twice, slowly, deliberately, his lips parting, his breathing starting to slow. 

Beside him Danny lets out a loud breath.  It’s tinged with relief and Grover looks down, confused by the brief look of satisfaction on his friend’s face.   It’s only there for a second but it takes another glance at the screen for him to understand.

Steve’s still staring back at Nika but there’s recognition now: his eyes are full of defiance.  Despite his injuries he sits a little taller, wipes all signs of pain from his face.  God knows what it’s costing him, Grover thinks, but the SEAL version of McGarrett is back.  And he’s never been more grateful to see him.

This is the man they need there right now. 

Unfortunately Nika, Grover suddenly realises with a sinking heart, knows that too.

With another hard tug at Steve’s shoulder, which causes the other man to let out a sharp huff of air, Nika turns his attention to the other chair.  Stanley stares back at him with panic in his eyes.  Pulling his good leg back under his chair, his bad leg still stuck out awkwardly in front of him, he strains against the wrist restraints as Nika leans back over him, pulling him into a hug that leaves their faces only inches apart.

“Excellent.  Now that Commander McGarrett is back with us we can begin.”

H50H50H50H50H50

“Tell them what happened.”

It’s not the first time Nika’s asked Stanley the question.  And Grover can feel the words grating on his nerves, plucking on the raw pain and concern he’s feeling for his friend.  Closing his eyes he takes a deep breath and unclenches his fists, focusing on one finger at a time, counting slowly, trying anything to stop his growing sense of panic overwhelm him.

“Don’t tell him.”  Steve’s words are muffled, his speech impeded by the blows to the face that Nika’s men have landed.  The onslaught had started as soon as Steve had woken up.  The sound of flesh being struck had filled the room until they’d had another break in transmission

For a split second the silence had been a welcome relief.  Next to him Chin and Kono were still staring at the screen, their shoulders rising and falling as they’d sucked in air like marathon runners who had just finished a race.  In unspoken agreement they’d coaxed Danny away from the screen, forcing him (and themselves) to drink something, even if they couldn’t face the food that Lani had found for them. 

With nowhere else to go they’d obediently listened as O’Neill and Brown and the Naval Intelligence team had filled them in on what was happening.  They’d offered ideas, given suggestions as to where Nika might be holding Steve and Stanley but standing still, not _doing_ anything, had been agony.  Constantly pacing, Danny’s agitation had reflected what they were all feeling, Grover reflected. 

They’d wanted to know what was happening on the other side of the screen.

One look at Steve’s face as soon as the video started again had been enough to fill in all the gaps.  Nika is determined to get Stanley to tell him what happened in Afghanistan.  And he’s using Steve to make him do it.

“Tell me!”

“You know what happened!” 

“Tell _them_!” Nika barks, indicating the camera in front of him.

“No.”  Stanley’s voice is barely more than a whisper but there’s a hint of anger there, underneath the fear. 

Nika picks up on his defiance instantly, pulling Stanley’s head back in a painful hold before nodding again at the man standing beside Steve.  Instinctively Grover steels himself for the blow that he knows is coming, tries not to imagine how much it’s going to hurt. And like every time before he can’t stop himself from recoiling inside as it lands.

In front of him Danny’s motionless apart from his hands, gripping the back of a chair.  White-knuckled, his bones look ready to pop out of his skin.  On the screen Stanley’s straining forward, worriedly watching Steve as his friend’s head stays down, his chin resting on his chest.  Slowly though his head comes back up.  In a move that Grover thinks can only be deliberate Steve looks straight into the camera, a cocky grin splitting his face.  “I’m fine…gonna have to work harder to…to hurt a Navy SEAL.”

“No.”  It’s Stanley who’s whispered the word but there’s an echo in the incident room:  Chin’s stepped forward, grabbing Danny’s arm as he raises it, his fist clenched.  Face twisted with anger and frustration it’s obvious he wants to hit something, _anything._

Steve’s taunt has the expected effect.  As the sound of more blows being landed fill the room they pull Danny away, deliberately blocking his view of the screen.  “What the hell is he doing--.”

“He’s doing his job.”  O’Neill and Brown have joined them, herding them into a side office, giving them some privacy from the rest of the room.  “I know you don’t want to hear that,” he adds as Danny’s glare zeros in on him, his fists still clenched, itching to hit the man in front of him, “but it’s true.  We need time.  And he’s giving us that.  So let’s use it.”

Beside him Brown nods in agreement.  Both men look calm, annoyingly calm.  Making himself look closer though, Grover notices the tight set of their mouths, the shadows under their eyes and forces himself to tamper down the anger that’s flared at their apparent indifference about what is happening to his friend.

Suddenly, back in the main room, the screen goes quiet again.  As one they look at the open door way, their thoughts back with Steve.

“How much longer is this going to last?”  Kono’s question is rhetorical, Grover realises, but he still looks over to O’Neill and Brown.  Under the scrutiny of four pairs of eyes the two men shift uncomfortably before turning away, making themselves busy arranging paperwork on the tables in front of them.  Swallowing down his own disappointment Grover watches them work.  It’s not like he was expecting an answer.  But at the moment it feels like this is going on forever. 

And even Navy SEALs have a limit.

He’s so lost in his thoughts that it takes him a while to realise that it’s _their_ papers that O’Neill and Brown are reading, the ones they’d been working on in the safe house.  “We thought you’d want them,” Brown offers with a shrug, his expression slightly embarrassed as he realises he’s being watched.  “We asked for them as soon as we got here.  The Governor got everything out of Steve’s office as well,” he adds, glancing quickly at each of them.  “Hope that’s okay.  We um…we thought it might help.”

It’s the most words he’s heard Brown speak, Grover thinks, and he has to stop himself from hugging the man, a thank you for understanding their need to be doing something.  Danny and Chin are already flicking through the notes, their brows furrowed in concentration.  Beside him Kono looks grateful and he knows how she feels.  Familiarity is what they need right now to distract them.

O’Neill seems to agree.  With a nod he indicates Steve’s laptop, open on the desk.  “We’ve got some good…well, we’ve got some news,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as he registers the expressions of cautious hope around him.  “Naval Intelligence tracked down the source of the continuous live feed video.  It’s coming out of a town just outside of LA,” he explains, bringing up a map on the screen.  “They’ve traced that feed back to Oahu, pinning it down within a three mile radius.”

“But that’s good, right?”  Steve’s at the end of that video transmission.  So anything that brings them closer has to be good, Grover thinks.

“Not when the CIA are involved,” Brown sighs, making his stomach flip anxiously.  “The former Deputy Secretary of State is being held captive by a member of the Taliban.  They want to shut the LA link down now and take over here on the islands.”

“But they can’t.  What about Steve?  If there’s no video going out to Nika’s pals then…then  there’s no reason to keep either of them alive.”  Danny’s voice is surprisingly calm, Grover notes, but his friend is vibrating with energy.  It’s obvious he’s struggling to hold himself in check.

“I know okay, Detect--.  Danny.” Rubbing his hand wearily over his face, O’Neill pushes up from the laptop with a tired sigh.  “The Governor’s up in his office now, trying to delay them.   Naval Intelligence think they can trace the signal on the islands.  They just need a couple more transmissions.”

“Jesus.” Running his fingers through his hair, linking them together and resting them at the back of his head, Danny finally starts pacing.  “I never thought we’d be hoping for more of….that. 

‘That’ is the blank screen that’s still taunting them in the main room.  Suddenly Grover wants the video to come back on, no matter what it shows them.  And he hates it so much.  His body is aching from his head down to his toes and he just wishes Renee and the kids were there, safe and warm in his arms where he can see them.  He just wants it all to be _over_.  

And God his head hurts. 

He doesn’t realise he’s spoken the last part out loud until Chin offers to get the medic for him.  He’s about to protest when he’s saved by the appearance of Denning’s staff carrying more boxes and equipment from the safe house.  When he sees the bag with medical supplies go by he almost laughs with relief.

“Please tell me the idiot packed Tylenol in here,” Danny mutters, grabbing the bag as it goes past.  Rummaging through he comes out with what he was looking for, palming two pills for himself before throwing the bottle over.  “Take em, Lou.  But if those don’t work you’re seeing the medic.  No arguments.”

‘And so are you’ is what he feels like saying.  Danny’s still worryingly pale, the bruises on his face starting to change colour, making them stand out even more vividly on his face.  He lets it go though.  He’d be wasting his breath anyway.  Neither of them will be seeing the medic any time soon, not unless they’re out cold. 

Or at least not until they find Steve.

H50H50H50H50H50

The Tylenol takes the edge off his headache, just enough so that he can focus on the discussions about where Nika is.  Grateful for any distraction he watches the Naval team get ready for the next transmission.  And he has to remind himself that they _are_ getting closer to helping Steve and Stanley.  Because the way they are looking at the screen, almost eager for it to come back on, is hitting way too close to a nerve.

O’Neill and Brown stand behind them, leaning over to get a good view of both the computers and the screen and just for a second, a split second, he considers joining them, focusing on the search instead of the fight.  But then Danny walks past, with Kono and Chin in tow.  Automatically he slots in behind, lining up beside them in front of the screen.

Steve’s face doesn’t look much worse, Grover notes, his stomach flipping with relief as the video comes back on.  But the way he’s slumped in the chair, the harsh sound of his breathing: that’s not good at all.  And the cocky, confident SEAL is a memory.  He’s _angry_ now and he’s not doing anything to hide it.  He feels himself shiver in reaction: this is the man he’s imagined working black ops in Afghanistan. 

Nika seems to be impervious to the ferocious anger being directed his way.  Standing in the centre of the screen he’s showing Stanley the picture that had been on the burner phone. Stanley’s shaking his head, his body trembling, denial written in every inch of his body.

“I…I didn’t know who she was…I didn’t do anything…it was just a kiss, I swear.”

“Liar!  You had sex with my daughter and then you shared your country’s secrets with—“

“It’s not what it looks like!  They made me…” 

Stunned, Grover turns away from the screen.  The rest of the conversation fades out in a rush of angry white noise as the truth about the blurred picture on the burner phone they’d recovered gradually sinks in.   Steve’s murderous expression is suddenly understandable.  They’ve put their lives on the line for this man and he’s _lied_ …and _Steve_ …Steve is…

His chest cramps painfully, his body reminding him to keep breathing, overriding the shock that’s hit him like a runaway train.  Beside him Kono’s raised her hand to her mouth, her lips moving wordlessly.  Chin’s expression is like granite, his arms crossed tightly across his body.

And Danny… his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, he’s starring at the screen, unaware of the rest of the room.  Grover hopes that his friend doesn’t get to spend time on his own with Rosso any time soon.

“Do you see now, Commander?  This is the man you’ve been protecting,” Nika continues, shoving the picture in front of Steve’s face.  “This is what you were willing to sacrifice your _life_ for, what your friend died for.  Your pathetic loyalty is worth nothing.  Your Government knew what he was doing and they did nothing.  They think they’re better than us but they are just the same and--” 

“You’re torturing him!” Steve spits back, awkwardly lifting himself out of his chair, the pain he’s in obvious as he brings himself up into Nika’s eyeline.    “He’ll say anything!”

“Would you, Stanley?” Twisting round Nika grabs hold of Rosso’s chin, pushing it up and back until it can go no further, his shoulders trapped against the back of the chair.  Despite the painful position and the man in front of him Rosso’s eyes are staring straight at Steve.  He’s silently pleading, Grover realises.  He’s _desperate_ to talk. 

To confess.

It’s the last thing they want him to do right now.

“Don’t say anything else.  Don’t.”  Steve’s voice is sharp, commanding.  Grover has no idea where he’s finding the strength from but he’s thankful.  Behind him he can hear Denning giving orders, a heated conversation going on between him and the Naval staff.  The atmosphere has ramped up in the room. 

But it’s ramped up on the screen as well.

“Steve.  I’m sorry I can’t do…Angelique doesn’t know the truth. I have to tell them.  She’ll think I’ve—“

“Tell them how the Commander let a man under his command kill innocent women and children! 

“It did—“

“Tell them!”

“Steve! I can’t—“

“You can tell Angelique what happened when we get out of here.”  Steve’s tone is commanding, demanding instant obedience.  The skin around his eyes is swelling, obscuring any emotion in them but Grover can hear the underlying compassion in his voice as he pulls back from Nika, focusing all of his considerable attention on the man in the other chair.  “They’re coming for us, Stanley.  I _promise_ you. My friends _will_ find us.” 

Rosso hesitates, nods, just a small nod, but it’s there.  Shakily he pulls himself up straight, raising his eyes defiantly as Nika studies him for a moment before turning back towards Steve. 

“That’s a brave statement, Commander.”  Head cocked to one side Nika studies the two men for a moment.  Then with a nod he signals to one of his men still hiding in the shadows.  Steve doesn’t blink Grover notes with pride.  Rosso’s eyes twitch to one side and then the other, trying in vain to see what is behind him.  “But I’m afraid Detective Williams is already here.”

Grover can’t stop himself from looking over to his left, to Danny.  Of course Nika is lying, his brain is telling him, but the last few days have taken their toll. 

They’ve taken their toll on Steve, too.  His friend’s mask of indifference is gradually slipping, a brief look of confusion crossing his face.   “Danny’s fine.”

“Are you sure, Commander?  When you saw him last was he okay?”

“Yes…yes he was.”  Steve frowns for a moment, no doubt remembering the last time he saw Danny, Grover thinks.  The ex-SEAL’s definition of ‘okay’ isn’t the same as everyone else’s he reminds himself, sparing Danny another quick glance.

Nika jumps on the note of hesitation, his face breaking out in a smile.  “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“What’s he doing?” Danny’s shifted towards the screen, bewildered.  “He’s got to know Steve’s never going to fall for this.”

No he’s not, Grover agrees silently.  So what the hell is going on?

He gets his answer a moment later when a piercing scream fills the room.  Heartbeat thumping through his chest he frantically checks Steve and Stanley on the screen.  Around him he can sense others doing the same, several members of the Intelligence team getting to their feet to check the screen for themselves. 

They’re fine, or as fine as they were 60 seconds before.  But from their reaction it’s clear the noise came from somewhere behind them.

“What the…”  Brown’s standing beside him, his eyes wide with confusion.  “Who was that?”

That’s the question Steve and Stanley are asking themselves, Grover realises, his stomach twisting painfully as he watches their growing confusion.    

And they’ve come to the wrong conclusion. 

“Babe.”  As close to the screen as he can be Danny’s raw, pained whisper is nearly lost in the noisy room around him.  Grover hears it though.  Swallowing convulsively against the sudden lump in his throat he steps up, his elbow brushing Kono’s as she does the same, Chin guarding them on the other side. 

When they catch up with Nika they’re going to kill him, he thinks, as he watches the scene on the screen unfold.  It doesn’t matter what the rules say.  It’s gonna happen. 

Stanley looks panic stricken, his gaze locked on Steve.  But Steve…Steve looks broken. 

“Come on, Babe.  _Think_.”

Twisting around painfully in his chair, Steve’s pulling so hard against the restraints he’s broken the skin, Grover notices, bile rising in his throat.  Nika’s smile carries on growing, his eyes full of triumphant malice.

“Come _on_."

There’s another scream, a sound full of pain and fear.  Stanley flinches, folding into his chair.  But Steve freezes, his expression turning inward.  Assessing, calculating, Grover thinks, silently willing his friend on.  In front on him Danny’s got his hands linked together like a man in prayer.    

“Show me.  Bring him out here now.” Steve’s voice is gravelly, his exhaustion clear. But his gaze is wholly focused on Nika. 

Nika seems delighted with his request.  “Are you sure, Commander?  Is that the way you want to remember your friend?”

“Now.  Otherwise Stanley isn’t going to tell you anything else.” 

“Is that right, Stanley?”  Nika’s changed his focus, moving to stand behind Rosso’s chair.  His hand rises, preparing to grip the other man’s chin again but to Grover’s surprise Rosso doesn’t flinch. 

Around him the noise level in the incident room has gone up.  There’s wave of energy flowing across the room and a quick glance at his watch tells him why.  This transmission is going on much longer.   

A flicker of hope flares deep in his gut.

Nika seems oblivious to the mistake he’s making.  He’s too absorbed in his two captives, too focused on trying to make them break to notice the amount of time he’s been broadcasting.  Leaning down between the chairs again the cruelty in his expression shows just how much he’s enjoying himself.

“Detective Williams has a daughter doesn’t he, Commander?  Imagine how she’ll feel when she finds out you could have saved her father but you chose not to?  Are you going to make the same mistake again and let one of your men die, Commander?  Turning, Nika looks Rosso straight in the face.  “Do you understand now, Stanley what is at stake?” he asks, punctuating each word by tapping Rosso on the face.  “Look into that camera and tell them what happened.”

“Steve?  I don’t know…”

“Don’t.  He’s lying.”  Teeth gritted, whether in pain or anger Grover’s not sure, Steve stares Nika down. “Why don’t you tell them how you left your daughter to die?  How you ran off like a coward and let her—“

Whatever Steve was planning to say next is lost as Rosso plants a punch in his solar plexus.  Collapsing into himself he lets out a groan that echoes across the incident room, puncturing the growing sense of expectation like a sharp knife.   Danny’s cursing loudly at the screen, using words Grover’s never heard from him before.  And Nika’s landing blow after blow, any hint of sanity gone from his eyes.

“We’ve got him.  Let’s go.”  A sharp tug on his elbow makes Grover jump, fuels the adrenaline spike that’s thrumming through his veins.  Swinging round, muscles tensed, he comes face to face with Brown who’s got a large holdall hitched over his shoulder.  It clanks as he shifts, metal on metal.

Weapons, Grover notes vaguely, as something dark and primal deep in his brain jumps with joy.

H50H50H50H50H50

Leaving the incident room feels like they’re leaving Steve behind, Grover thinks with overwhelming guilt.  Throwing another glance over his shoulder he keeps moving, still unable to look away from the screen.  His friend’s not sitting up any more, his groans growing further and further apart.  It’s Stanley who’s yelling now instead of Danny, struggling fiercely as Nika’s men try to hold him down.  The screaming in the background has stopped but even that’s a curse, not a blessing.  Grover already thinks he knows what that means.

O’Neill’s rounding them up, getting them moving towards the exit with strong words and an even stronger touch.  As the Governor joins them, ordering the guards to let them out of the incident room, Grover forces himself to block out the sound from the screen, to listen to the instructions the ex-SEAL is rapping out.

“We think you’ve got 30 minutes before the CIA team arrives,” Denning explains, accompanying them as they head for ground level and the main exit from the Governor’s Mansion.  “We’ll try and keep them busy for as long as we can.”

Thirty minutes until the CIA attempt another cover up, Grover acknowledges with a nod, reading between the lines. 

“So we have jurisdiction?”  Danny asks, not missing a step as Kono helps him slip on a TAC vest, wincing at it rubs his bruised chest.  He sounds calm though, looks like he’s in control, Grover thinks.  It’s only his red rimmed eyes that give him away.

“You do,” the Governor confirms, his gaze skimming briefly over the two ex-SEALs.  “However…”

“We’re tourists,” Brown assures him, sliding a SIG Sauer P226 into the holster he’s now wearing on his hip.  Steve’s spare weapon, Grover suddenly realises, not missing the nod of acknowledgement Danny gives Brown as he straps on his own weapon, double checking everything as they step out into the night.

Denning absorbs the ex-SEAL’s declaration with a resigned shake of his head as he leads them outside the Mansion.  It’s the early hours of the morning, Grover notes with surprise, all sense of time gone since Nika’s men had attacked the convoy.  It’s unusually cold, particularly for Hawaii, and he’s suddenly grateful for the insulation offered by the TAC vest he’s wearing, despite it feeling twice as heavy as normal. 

The adrenaline high he was feeling earlier is waning Grover realises in a slightly detached way, explaining why he’s feeling so tired.  A glance over at O’Neill reminds him what’s at stake though.  His expression grim, he’s got his cell phone to his ear: he’s being updated by the team in the incident room.  The location they are heading for is at least a 15 minute drive away.  It feels like much, _much_ too long.

“Shit.” Danny swears, his hands rising in despair as they reach the edge of the empty public parking lot.  They’ve got no transport, Grover realises, mentally filling in the blanks where Danny’s left off.

His friend’s concern doesn’t register with the two ex-SEALs.  Coming to a sudden halt, hefting the loaded holdalls they are carrying further up on their backs, they scan the sky expectantly.  “I called in a few favours,” Denning explains, as the sound of a helicopter approaching fills the night air.  “The Navy wants their SEAL back.”

 

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

The thud, thud, thud of the helicopter’s rotor blades make it vibrate constantly, rattling its metal skin.  Military issue, it’s designed to be a work horse, fulfilling its purpose with the minimum of window dressing.  Which means no padding on the seats Grover notes, shifting uncomfortably.   His body feels like it’s being tossed around in a washer, the pain in his head pulsing in time with the vibrations of the helicopter.

He doesn’t realise he’s grinding his teeth against the pain until Kono nudges him, the surprise causing him to release his jaw with a gasp.  Leaning forward in the seat beside him she’s studying his face with a frown.

He doesn’t have to switch on the headset he’s wearing to hear what she’s saying over the noise of the helicopter’s motor.   Her frown grows as she reaches over to touch his arm, her fingers feeling unusually warm again his cold skin.  The crew had issued them with thermal jackets as they’d taken off but despite having his tucked tight against his body, his TAC vest adding another layer of insulation over the top, he’s still covered in goosebumps. 

Pain.  Fear.  Anger.  Exhaustion.  His body is feeling every one of them.  He’s struggling to keep up.

Movement around him forces him to focus.  Thirty minutes, he reminds himself angrily.  Half an hour and this will all be over.  Because they will have got Steve out of there.  And Rosso.  Baker and those lying bastards in the CIA can do whatever they want then.

Looking at his watch, he starts a mental countdown. 

Straightening his shoulders he acknowledges Kono’s worried frown with a nod of thanks, reaching over to squeeze her fingers back.  As acts of reassurance go it’s a weak one but she nods back, her lips curling up in a half smile.   Her eyes are full of worry though. 

Across the aisle Danny is deep in conversation with a young woman who is dressed in Navy combats.  Seated side by side he’s curled towards her, one arm tucked protectively around his ribs.  The other arm is cutting downwards in quick sharp thrusts.  Whatever he’s saying isn’t going down well – the woman’s lips are pursed together in a tight line.  Danny’s cheeks are flushed with anger.

Perhaps sensing he’s being watched he stops, twisting to look straight at him.  Grover feels his heart sink as Danny’s calculating gaze suddenly softens and he turns back to the woman, leaning closer, his lips almost touching her ear. 

Lip reading, Grover thinks, would be an excellent skill to have right now.

The feeling of apprehension grows as the woman gets up, the medic’s insignia on her vest just visible in the artificial light that’s barely illuminating the interior.   Her name’s Haskell, he notes, reading the ID strip below the insignia.  When she nods to Kono his friend gives him an apologetic shrug before giving up her seat, swapping places to sit beside Danny. 

“How we doing, Captain?” she asks, her attention on the rucksack in her lap.  “You need anything?” 

It’s on the tip of his tongue to say no, he’s fine, when she looks up and he knows there’s no point in lying.  “I’ll be fine,” he offers instead.  He will be, he thinks, because he has to be. 

“That’s what Detective Williams said,” she replies casually, her attention back on the rucksack.  “But he made me a deal.  He said if you take something for the pain then he will too.”

Swearing under his breath he shoots daggers at his friend sitting across from him.  Head tilted to one side,  Danny glares back, his eyebrows raised in challenge.  Not fair, he wants to yell back, noting the dark circles under the other man’s eyes, his casual posture doing nothing to mask the pain he’s in.

“I can’t take anything,” he insists, leaning sideways so the medic can hear him but with his face turned towards Danny who, even if he can’t lip read, can read the intent in his face.  “I need a clear head and that stuff—“

“I know what I’m doing.  I’ve been here before, okay?” she cuts in, raising her voice as she switches her gaze to Danny and then back.  “Trust me, it’ll just take the edge off, okay?  Okay?” She repeats, her expression softening as she takes in Danny’s mulish expression.

With a resigned sigh he sticks his arm out.  “Give it to me.”

As Haskell rolls up his sleeve and preps the skin, he catches Danny’s gaze and holds it.  ‘Stubborn’ is the only way to describe his friend’s expression, Grover thinks.  But there’s a hint of relief there too.  He’s so determined to get Steve back, every ounce of energy focused on that one goal, he’d needed someone else to make the decision for him.  When the medic finally crosses back over to Danny’s side and gives him his shot as well it’s like his body deflates, relaxing and folding into the bucket seat, his eyes drifting closed for a moment.

Drifting lightly in his own relatively pain-free cloud for the first time in hours, Grover knows exactly how he feels.

Haskell knew what she was doing though.  His brain is functioning just fine, not clouded by the drugs.  And without the pain to distract him he can finally focus on everyone around him.  O’Neill, Brown and Chin are deep in conversation, a laptop between them.  They’ve been looking at it ever since they got on the chopper.

Since the Governor had informed them that the screen in the situation room had gone blank again.

He knows he’s not the only one who’s trying not to think what that might mean. 

With a determined shove he pushes away the memories that are trying to escape.  Taking a deep breath he focuses on the smell of fuel and oil around him, on the waves of cold air that cause him to shiver intermittently, on the high pitched hum of radio traffic coming from the cockpit.  On the sense of urgency radiating from them all. 

Steve had still been hanging on when he’d last seen him, his heart-wrenching groans of pain a sign that he was still alive.  That he was still fighting. 

That he was still convinced that his friends were coming to get him.

“Five minutes out.”

As O’Neill waves at them all, indicating they should switch on their headsets, Grover mentally updates his countdown:  twenty five minutes.  Just long enough to get in, grab Steve and Rosso and get out.  Before the CIA get there and try to cover up everything again. 

And without being killed by a group of international terrorists, his brain supplies unhelpfully, adding a terrifying element of reality he was really trying to ignore.

Just twenty five minutes. 

That’s not long at all.

H50H50H50H50

They’re down to seventeen minutes by the time they get to the warehouse and he can feel his heart traitorously beating out every second that’s getting away from them.  The chopper got them so far but even in the dark it’s impossible to be subtle in something so loud so they’ve covered the last bit on foot.  O’Neill, Brown and Haskell had shouldered the bulk of the equipment and for a while he’d felt guilty about that.  Now that he’s dragging in air like a puffing steam train while they’re barely breaking a sweat the only thing he’s feeling is grateful. 

As Danny leans down beside him, resting his hands on his knees, Grover imagines he’s thinking the same thing.

The small warehouse in front of them is derelict, the windows and doors boarded up.  The pitched roof is weathered, weeds slowly claiming it inch by inch. At the end of a row of three similar buildings, nothing about it stands out.  In the darkness it looks uninhabited and looking at it Grover can see how someone could hide here.  There’re no houses for a couple of blocks, no passers-by to notice unusual traffic.

No one to hear any cries for help.

The image of Wo Fat’s dungeon flashes in his mind and he quashes it.  In front of him O’Neill and Brown are indicating upwards, towards the roof.   When Chin acknowledges them with a silent nod they start climbing up a metal ladder on the side of the building. Black shadows against the bulk of the building, only the long, thin shapes of the weapons strapped across their backs break up the smooth silhouettes of their bodies.

With a flick of his hand Chin motions the rest of them on.  As planned Grover slots in at the end of the line, scanning the area behind them with his shotgun.  In front of him Haskell is keeping up an easy pace despite being at least a foot shorter than him, her gun held confidently in her hands.  She knows what she’s doing, he can see that, but he can’t help closing up to make sure she’s covered.  Right now she’s the most important member of their team.

They’re gonna need her.

It’s the next bit that O’Neill and Brown were most worried about (and despite himself Grover bites back a smile at the memory of Danny’s reaction to their definition of _‘worried’_ ).  They’d discussed points of entry, the booby-traps to look out for but the amount of preparation they’d had is minimal and in truth they’re flying blind.  When Chin gets one of the doors open without incident, Kono supporting him despite her cousin’s silent glare of displeasure, they all let out a sigh of relief.

It doesn’t last long.

Pitch black inside, they’re in a maze of corridors and offices.  It’s the last place Nika would be expecting them, O’Neill and Brown had reassured them.  He’d be expecting a bigger strike force, with entry at multiple points.  As he follows his friends in single file, every corner throwing up a shadow potentially hiding a terrorist, his heart thundering like a piston, Grover wishes they did have a SEAL team to back them up.  Multiple SEAL teams, he corrects himself, armed to the teeth and ready to kick Nika’s ass.

Thirteen minutes.

Too long, we’re taking too long he thinks, as they round another corner, Danny and Chin taking up position to clear the next office.  As with each room before he holds his breath, offering up a prayer that this will be the one with Steve and Rosso in it.  That they’ve timed this just right.

“No.”

It’s Chin who’s spoken, the word whispered, broken.  But it’s Danny who’s pushed forward, his gun raised, the penlight on its muzzle picking up shapes in the office.  Despite the drills he knows he should follow, Grover feels himself step forward, past the medic, so he can look in the room, drawn even though he’s dreading what he’ll find.

There’s a body. 

And it is a body, his mind registers, freezing in shock.  Even in the half-light it’s clear from the unnatural sprawl of limbs that it’s not a live, breathing, person.  Their earpieces jump into life:  O’Neill’s asking for an update, his tone urgent. It’s Haskell who answers, pushing him back into the corridor to guard the doorway as she kneels down beside Danny.

His brain finally kicks back in and he raises his shotgun.  When Kono joins him, standing back to back to cover both directions, he can feel the minute tremors running through her body.

The radios are ominously quiet.  It feels like the shadows are creeping over them, the darkness absorbing them, making all his greatest fears come true.

“It’s Baker.”

There’s the sound of a choked sob behind him as Danny’s words sink in.  For a second the reassuring warmth of Kono disappears but then she’s back, standing closer, feeling impossibly tall despite the difference in their heights.  He leans back, thankful for her presence holding him up.

 “Let’s move.”  Danny’s back, his expression grimly determined, shrugging off the steadying hand Chin’s placed on his shoulder.  As they fall back in line, Grover forces himself to ignore the fresh blood stains on his friend’s TAC vest.  There’s a thousand questions running through his head about Baker’s presence in the warehouse but there’s one fact that’s pushed itself to the front of his mind.

If Baker’s the person that Nika’s men were torturing earlier then at least they’re in the right place.

There’s a small part of his brain that recoils in horror at the callousness of that thought.  But there’s a louder part that’s reminding him that they’ve only got minutes left before the CIA get there.  And getting Steve out of there alive is the last thing the CIA are going to be worried about. 

“We’ve got eyes on the targets.”

Brown’s words are whispered over the earpieces, barely there, but Danny’s already moving, taking over point from Chin, his gun raised.  “Where?”

H50H50H50H50

When the sound of gunshots finally comes they are almost welcome.  Their pent up anger has been looking for a release ever since Nika’s men ambushed them, Grover thinks, his shotgun reassuringly heavy as he braces it against his shoulder and aims.

They should have guessed that Nika wasn’t going to make it easy for them though.

They’re in the main loading area of the warehouse.  It’s the area they could see in the video, Grover notes vaguely as they hunker down behind a pile of discarded packing crates, ducking as bullets find their position, spraying them with wood splinters.  Beside him Danny’s swearing passionately, his face twisted with fury.

Nika and his men are hiding in the shadows, only the brief flashes from the muzzles of their guns pinpointing their positions.  Steve and Rosso on the other hand are out in the open, lit up with spotlights, sitting targets in the direct line of fire. 

Human shields protecting the bastard who captured them.

Risking a glance over the top of the packing crates confirms Rosso is conscious.  He’s injured though, Grover realises instantly, the blood on his face dripping down to stain his shirt, his bad leg held out awkwardly in front of him.  Lips pinched with pain he’s sucking in air through his teeth.  Their eyes meet for a second and Grover feels his heart jolt in shock. 

His expression is full of regret: Stanley Rosso doesn’t think he’s getting out of there.

Tearing his gaze away he focuses on Steve and his stomach plummets.  Unconscious, his friend’s face is barely visible, covered in blood.  Chin resting on his chest, the deadweight of his injured shoulder and arm has pulled his body to one side, twisting him in the chair.

In the harsh, artificial light it’s clear he’s barely breathing.

“Chin…”

Danny’s desperate plea cuts through his thoughts.  Beside him Chin is talking rapidly into his radio.  Talking to O’Neill and Brown, Grover realises, listening to the voices in his ear.  The SEALs are up in the roof somewhere trying to find a clear shot at Nika and his men.

‘Come on, come on,’ he whispers under his breath, his brain ticking off the minutes as the radios fall quiet again.  As if responding to his thoughts two shadows suddenly appear on the metal catwalk that runs across the roof of the warehouse. 

Unfortunately Nika’s men spot them too.

As bullets start pinging off the metal catwalk, showering the SEALs with sparks, Danny breaks cover, standing up to empty a clip in the direction of Nika and his men.  As he ducks back down to reload Kono takes his place.  They’re not shooting directly at Nika, Grover realises. That would mean hitting Steve and Rosso.  Instead they’re aiming several feet to the left, making Nika and his men divide their attention.

 As a distraction is works spectacularly.

Every shot that Nika and his men return reveals their position.  O’Neill and Brown make the most of the opportunity.  As Nika’s men start to fall one by one Grover feels his adrenaline levels rising, fed by a growing sense of hope.  As he ducks down to reload his shotgun he risks another glance at Rosso.  There’s hope in his expression too.

They’re so close, _so, so_ close, Grover thinks, as on automatic pilot he slots more shells into his gun.  Nika and his men are only firing back intermittently, more worried about the threat from above than about their hostages.  Chin shares a glance with all of them and in unspoken agreement they all load their guns one more time, readying for one last push to get themselves between Steve, Rosso and Nika’s men. 

And then all hell breaks loose.

It starts as a loud rumbling sound from outside the warehouse.  Masked by the sound of gunfire it takes them a second or two to register it.  Before they can turn the wall beside them explodes inwards as a truck crashes through.  Afterwards, Grover realises, it was only Haskell’s quick thinking that stopped him and Chin from being badly injured.  Hands wrapped in the back of their TAC vests she yanks them backwards, a split second before a pile of crates tips over, landing exactly where they’d been standing.

Right at this moment though all he is aware of is noise, a loud ringing in his ears, dust clogging his throat.  Coughing, he blinks to clear his eyes, automatically checking on his friends beside him.  Chin’s still sprawled down beside him, his expression dazed.  Danny and Kono are up on their feet though, guns raised as they climb over the wrecked crates.  The sound of running above him makes him look up just as O’Neill and Brown open fire, letting off shots as they move.

The truck has come to a halt in front of Steve and Rosso, he realises slowly, his mind still stunned.  It’s like the ambush on the way to the hospital all over again.

One look at Danny tells him his friend is thinking the same thing.  Advancing on the truck he’s letting off a steady stream of shots, not flinching as someone returns fire from the other side.  Kono’s backing him up but it’s clear he’s only got one thing on his mind.

He’s not going to let Nika take him partner again.

The loud clatter of footsteps on metal distracts him from Danny for a moment.  O’Neill and Brown are still on the move, any pretence at stealth forgotten as they swing off the end of the metal catwalk and land on a pile of crates below.  Using them like giant stepping stones they are nearly at the bottom when the truck revs up again, pulling away with a screech of tires. 

As it swings round to go back the way it came, the truck’s cab is illuminated by the spotlights.  Nika grins triumphantly back at them from the passenger seat.  Instinctively Grover raises his gun and fires, hearing Chin’s gun beside him firing too.  The truck swerves, suggesting they’ve hit the driver but then it corrects itself, disappearing through the whole in the wall.

“Get out of the way!”

The yelled warning makes him jump, reload his gun again but it’s O’Neill and Brown sprinting towards them, moving at a speed that he knows Steve would be proud of.  Negotiating their way round the huge crates like they’re toy bricks, they push past him and Chin, taking position outside to fire at the rapidly retreating truck.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.”

It’s Danny’s voice, full of desperation, Grover realises, trying to make sense out of all the noise and confusion coming over his earpiece.  Torn, he swings round and notices for the first time that only one of the chairs is empty.  Unlike in Afghanistan Nika didn’t forget to take his main asset with him this time.  Which means Rosso must be in the truck.  And Steve’s still in his chair, surrounded by Danny, Kono and Haskell.

“Steven.  Don’t you _dare_ give up now, do you hear me?  We didn’t go through all this just so you could give up on us now.”

“Lou…”  Standing beside him, Chin’s radiating indecision, his gaze swinging from Steve, to the retreating truck, and back again.  Grover knows just how he feels.  Danny and Kono are helping to ease Steve to the floor, Haskell checking his airway as they kick the chair away to make space for her to work in.

Outside O’Neill and Brown are still returning fire.  The truck’s slowed but it’s still moving too fast for them to catch it on foot.  Rosso’s in that truck. But every muscle in his body is screaming at him to go and help Steve.

“We need transport.”  The words are out of his mouth before Grover even realises he’s thought them.  Where the hell he’s getting transport from he has no idea.  But Stanley’s pained, resigned expression is clearly imprinted in his mind. 

There’s no way he’s going to tell Steve they let Nika get away with Rosso.  That all of this was for nothing.  That he’ll never find out what happened to his friend in Afghanistan.

And the CIA are still on their way.

The last thought pops into his head unbidden.  Five minutes, his internal clock tells him.  That’s all you’ve got. Suddenly the chatter on the radios gets louder, making him wince at the assault on his ear, but stepping outside he understands why.  O’Neill and Brown are running after the truck, Brown’s breathless update on the radio proving just how hard they are working to keep up.  The ex-SEAL is yelling something about ‘intercepting’ and ‘co-ordinates’ and ‘for fucks sake get a move on’ but for a moment Grover struggles to figure out what the hell is going on.

Suddenly the sky lights up and everything becomes much clearer – in more ways than one.

Brown’s summoned the helicopter crew.  And they’re coming in hard and low, the chopper barely missing the roof of the warehouse as they skim over the top.  The spotlight in its underside is blindingly bright and he puts up his arm to shield his eyes, ducking away as the downdraft swirls dirt and rubble around them.

It’s like being in an alien invasion movie Grover thinks, as Chin joins him to stand in the spotlight, staring up at the helicopter hovering above.  The kids would love this is his next thought but then the helicopter’s moving again, plunging them back into darkness and he realises Chin’s pulling him to follow after it.

As they break into a run he can feel his head thudding, his vision starting to blur again on one side.  Haskell’s shot is starting to wear off, he notes vaguely, but he pushes through, forcing himself to keep going.  The helicopter’s pulling wide of the truck, perhaps to avoid being fired on, but Nika’s men try anyway.  For a horrifying second Grover thinks they’ve been successful, opening his mouth to yell a warning at Chin when the chopper appears to dip dangerously, its nose pointing at the road.  But the truck swerves once, then twice in reaction to avoid it and runs into a ditch, slowly tipping over as it comes to a halt.

It’s a perfectly timed manoeuvre by the chopper pilot.  Grover wonders how many times he’s had to do it before.

The next few minutes are a bit of anti-climax, Grover reflects after the event.  Nika and his men clamber out of the truck, shakily offering resistance, but they’re no threat against the chopper that’s still hovering over them and two ex-SEALs.  O’Neill and Brown pick them off with clinical precision, leaving only Nika kneeling on the ground, both hands clutched behind his head as the shoulder of his shirt slowly stains with blood.

It’s fitting though, he thinks, that McGarrett’s old team are the ones that have captured Nika.  And if Nika just so happens to end up with a bruise on his face shaped like the butt of a gun then that’s fine too. 

He doubts Steve or Rosso would give a shit right now.

Rosso.

Chin’s clambering into the back of the truck, O’Neill beside him.  Heart thudding Grover joins them, his knees almost buckling with relief when he sees Rosso huddled in one corner.  He’s pale and obviously in shock but he’s alive.  Leaning in he offers a hand, bracing himself as he grips Stanley’s arm and takes his weight as the other men carefully get him out of the truck.  He’s too weak to stand, his teeth chattering loudly as O’Neill tucks his shoulder under his arm and they start moving back towards the warehouse.  The puncture mark on Stanley’s arm from the IV is bleeding weakly.  The drugs Nika used to revive him are probably wearing off, Grover realises, sharing a worried look with Chin.  And they still don’t know what Baker put in his medication: and Baker’s in no position to tell them anymore.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry…”  Rosso’s mumbling under this breath, his words barely understandable.  They seem to be directed at O’Neill, Grover notes.

“Let’s keep him moving.”  If O’Neill’s heard him then he’s choosing not to acknowledge him.  With good reason, Grover reminds himself: Nika accused Rosso of betraying his country.

Rosso seems insistent though, his head suddenly coming up, his gaze fixing on the ex-SEAL.  “I’m sorr’…your friend…he didn’t…he didn’t kill those…people…”

“Which friend?”  O’Neill asks, confused.  Grover can tell the exact moment understanding finally dawns, though.  His jaw drops slightly, it’s obvious he’s experiencing a feeling of immense relief.  “Ed?  You’re talking about Ed?”

“I panicked…I’m so sorry…I panicked…”

“So who killed them?”  Grover can’t stop himself from interrupting: this is the question they came all this way to find out the truth about. 

Rosso doesn’t seem to have heard him though, his eyes drifting closed, his head slowly dropping down.  “Baker knew….He knew I’d kissed her…he let me.  Angelique…he…he said…he’d…”

‘What did he say?’ Grover wants to ask but it’s too late.  Rosso’s passed out and he stumbles under the sudden dead weight that he’s carrying.  On the other side O’Neill’s swearing loudly but he takes the bulk of Stanley’s weight, leaning the other man against him. 

“CIA team are nearly here.”  It’s Chin jogging up behind them, his tone tense, urgent.  He’s dragging Nika along beside him.  Brown’s following behind, the muzzle of his gun only inches from the terrorist’s head.  Nika’s breathing heavily, sucking in air around a rag that’s been stuffed in his mouth.

In front of them the helicopter’s landed, to one side of the warehouse, its rotor blades still turning as it waits to take off again.

“We need to get out of here.”  It’s O’Neill who’s spoken, his eyes flicking urgently between the approach road to the warehouses and the helicopter. Bending down he inelegantly hoists Rosso over his shoulder and breaks into a trot.  As they round the end of the chopper the loading door is already open.  Grover watches as with a surprisingly amount of care the ex-SEAL slides the unconscious man into the chopper.

The sound of voices distracts him and turning he finds Danny, Kono, Haskell and a member of the chopper crew carrying a stretcher out from the warehouse.  Haskell’s giving out instructions over her radio, her eyes flicking worriedly to her patient.  As they pull closer Grover understands why, the taste of bile suddenly sharp and acidic in his throat.

Steve looks like a car crash victim: blood, bruises, broken limbs, there isn’t an inch of his upper body that isn’t marked in some way.  If Nika wasn’t down on the ground right now, his wrists and ankles handcuffed, he’d seriously consider putting a bullet in him, he realises, fisting his hands to stop himself doing just that. 

Danny’s looking like he might just shoot him anyway. 

Gently, Chin slides in beside Danny, smoothly taking his place at the stretcher, indicating with a nod of his head that he should climb in the chopper.  Danny falters, his gaze locked on Nika, his eyes flashing with anger.  He’s a split second away from exploding, Grover thinks, from taking out all his pain and concern for his partner and raining it down on Nika with fists and feet and guns.

“Danny.” Kono’s calling him back from whichever hell he’s gone to, her voice soft, compassionate.  “Danny?”

Danny blinks, once then twice, his eyes focusing back on the chopper: on the stretcher that they’re now carefully sliding in.  With one last glare at Nika he painfully pulls himself into the helicopter, kneeling down beside the stretcher as Haskell leans over Steve, quietly talking on the radio as she checks him over.

“Lou, let’s go.” Chin sounds like he’s repeating the order.  Looking around Grover realises he must have phased out for a moment.  Everyone is looking back at him impatiently.  And his head is hurting like hell. As he turns to climb in he spots a row of car headlights cutting through the night sky towards them and he realises why they need to go _now_.

The CIA are almost on top of them.  They’ve run out of time.

His sense of confusion grows as he gets into the helicopter and the crew member slides the door closed behind him.  Through the window he can see Chin and Kono still standing outside, talking to O’Neill and Brown, taking their weapons off them before Kono steps forward to replace Brown as Nika’s guard.

The ex-SEALs aren’t supposed to be there he remembers, as the chopper slowly rises from the ground.  The Governor was very clear about that.  And they’ve spent more than enough time in their careers working with the CIA, he thinks.  The last thing they need is any more.

He’d never even asked them where they’d come from.

The thought occurs to him as he slowly lowers himself into a seat, his joints protesting at the movement.  They’d saved his life and he’d never bothered to find out anything about theirs.  He hadn’t even checked to see if they had a way to get home.  Steve would be bummed about that.  His team’s wellbeing was always his first priority. 

“Captain?  You okay there?”

Opening his eyes (and when the hell had he closed them?) he finds Haskell leaning over him.  Frowning, she’s studying him closely.  In a rush everything comes back to him, sending his heart rate skywards.  Pushing himself upright, his gaze settles with dread on the two men lying on the floor of the chopper.  “Steve…?”

“He’s okay,” Haskell tells him, pushing back down into his seat.  “I’ve seen worse,” she elaborates, registering his look of disbelief.  “It’s going to be rough for him for a while.”

‘Rough’ must be an understatement, he thinks as he carefully crosses over to his friend’s stretcher, slowly lowering himself down.  Steve’s wrapped in a blanket, hiding the worst of the injuries on his torso and shoulder.  But he’s on oxygen with an IV in his arm and his face looks like it’s gone ten rounds with a prize fighter. 

After rescuing his friend from Wo Fat’s dungeon he’d prayed that he’d never have to see Steve like that again.  He wonders, briefly, if it’s worth praying again.

Across from him Danny’s taken a seat on the floor too.  That can’t be comfortable, Grover thinks, not with those injured ribs.  His own ribs twinge in sympathy but the younger man seems oblivious to any pain, all his attention on his unconscious partner.  “How’s he doing?” he asks him eventually, raising his voice to be heard over the sound of the helicopter’s engine.

It’s a few moments before Danny replies, his helpless shrug speaking volumes.  “He’s Steve.  Who knows?”

Good point, Grover agrees silently, as Danny goes back to watching over his friend.  Steve’s been through a lot, both mentally and physically, in the time that he’s known him.  And God only knows what he went through in the Navy.  But the man is only human.  And he’s just been through a horrific ordeal.

One that would be enough to even slow down someone like Steve.

It’s on the tip of his tongue to ask Danny how _he’s_ doing.  But he knows he’d be wasting his breath.  For all that Danny complains about Steve not expressing his feelings, he’s not much better, not when it comes to the important things.   

So he turns his attention to Rosso instead.  Also lying on a stretcher and wrapped in a blanket he’s in a restless sleep, his body twitching, his brow creased in a frown. Memories, Grover reflects, are a powerful thing.  So are secrets, he thinks, his mind picking over what Stanley had confessed.  The truth about Ed not shooting the women and children: that had been a good thing.  The information about Baker and the CIA though, Nika’s accusation that he was passing state secrets to a terrorist…. His mind goes blank on him, too exhausted to know where to go next.  

“Hey, hey, hey…don’t do that, babe.  You’ll hurt yourself.”

Steve’s awake, he realises with a start.  Barely conscious, he corrects himself.  His puffy and bruised eyes are only just open but it’s enough to see the pain and confusion in them: Grover feels something inside of him break.  Steve’s rising sense of panic is obvious in the way he’s trying to free his arms out of the blanket.  And to Grover’s surprise Danny’s voice just seems to be making things worse.

“You’re safe,” he tries instead, leaning closer so Steve can see him.  “Just take it easy.  You’re on a chopper, we’re taking—“

“Danny…he’s got Danny…”

Steve’s not talking to him, Grover realises, and from Danny’s wrecked expression he understands that too: his friend still thinks he’s in the warehouse.  “Danny’s safe,” he tries again, reaching out to gently grab Steve’s arm as he finally twists it out of the blanket.  “He wasn’t there, remember?  You told Nika he wasn’t there.”

Steve blinks back at him, his eyelids drooping as if he’s fighting to stay conscious.  “Danny…he’s got…”

“He hasn’t,” Grover insists, leaning closer, willing his friend to understand.  Haskell’s joined them, her worry clear as she checks her patient and he can see why.  Steve’s breaths are starting to come in short, sharp pants and that can’t be good.  “Danny’s _here_.”  Impulsively he grabs Danny’s arm and his friend takes the hint, reaching out to grab Steve’s hand and hold on.

Instantly Steve stops struggling, blinking as he tries to focus on what’s around him.  He’s still tense though, his breathing worryingly fast.  Danny squeezes his hand again, holds on, anchors his friend with touch.  Finally his body relaxes, all the tension disappearing in a rush.  “’New you weren’t there,” he slurs, as his eyes finally slide closed, “weren’t…talking…Danny’s…always…talk…in’.”

Grover watches him for a moment, waits anxiously as Haskell checks him over.  When she nods, sitting back, he turns his attention back to Danny.  Head down, his shoulders are shaking.  Concerned, he reaches over, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.  “He’ll be okay—“

Shaking his head, Danny looks up at him.  His eyes are suspiciously bright, Grover notices, his heart clenching in sympathy.  But there’s amusement in there too and he frowns as Danny starts laughing: it’s a harsh, jarring sound, with no humour in it.  “This big goof’s right,” his friend explains, pinching the bridge of his nose as he blinks furiously.  “If that had been me in there with that bastard I would have told him what I thought of him.”  Wincing as he sucks in a deep breath, he leans down to straighten up Steve’s blanket.  “They would have been able to hear me from here to fuckin’ New Jersey and I would have told him….I would have…”

Grover pushes himself up from his seat, carefully stepping over Steve’s stretcher.  Sitting down beside Danny he wraps an arm around his friend, supporting him as his shoulders begin to shake again.  He can feel tears on his own cheeks as well, Grover realises, letting them fall as he silently watches the two injured men sleep.

This battle’s not won yet, he reluctantly admits to himself, his heart sinking as his mind wonders back to Kono and Chin at the warehouse.  He wonders if they’re okay, figures the CIA are going to get the shock of their lives when they meet both of them in all their angry glory. 

But the CIA are going to want to know why Baker’s body is there, what was his involvement with Nika, just how much of what was said on that video was true.  And then there’s the not insignificant fact that the Governor’s strike force may have been protecting a traitor, even though they didn’t know it at the time.

There are still so many questions to be answered.

When Haskell appears with more blankets he gives her a grateful nod, helping her to drape one around Danny, who’s drooping with exhaustion.  They both need sleep but Danny’s the one who didn’t get a chance to rest at the safe house, too worried about Steve to actually switch off.  With a squeeze of his arm he hopes he’s giving Danny a clear message: it’s okay to go to sleep now.  I’ve got you.  He’s safe.

Eventually Danny gives in, his body sagging slightly, his head swaying forward.  They’re on their way to Tripler ( _finally_ , his tired brain adds grouchily), which is at least another ten minutes out so he retrieves his cell phone from his pocket, listening to it beep as it tells him he’s got eleven new messages.

Renee and the kids have been busy, Grover thinks, smiling as he swipes through the new photos they’ve sent. His heart is aching from their absence.  But the sooner they solve this case, the sooner his family can come home.  Focusing on one picture – the three of them around the pool, cocktails in their hands, huge grins on their faces – he tries to start putting together the last pieces of the puzzle.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

"Lou, you still there?"  
  
Renee's concerned tone brings him back to himself with a start.  Looking around he realises he's still standing in the hospital corridor.  At one end he can see the uniformed guards who are checking everyone who is entering the wing.  There are four rooms in the corridor: only two of them are occupied and a quick glance makes it clear which ones they are.  One is guarded by a man and woman in Naval uniform: that’s McGarrett’s room.  The other has two men in suits guarding it: the CIA are determined not to let Stanley Rosso out of their sight.

As displays in political posturing go, Grover thinks, it’s quite an impressive one.  Or at least it would be impressive if he wasn’t so tired and hurting.  And worried about his friend.

Right now he really wants to knock some heads together.  
  
"Lou?!"  
  
Renee’s voice floats up from the phone in his hand, distant and hollow.  But there’s no mistaking the growing panic in her tone.  Taking a deep breath he closes his eyes and puts the phone to his ear.  “I’m fine, baby. Really I--”  
  
"That's it.  I'm getting on the next plane, I don't care what-"  
  
“Don't!”  The word comes out more forceful than he intends and he sucks in another breath, trying to steady himself.  He wants her with him more than he can say, needs her warmth to anchor him.  But another glance around reminds him why she and kids can’t come back yet.  
  
They’re still in the middle of this battle.  And there’s a reason Steve wanted to send them away.    
  
“What aren't you telling me...”  
  
There’s anguish in her voice now.  Raw anguish.  And it’s killing him.  Floundering for the right words, he touches his hand to his chest, resting it over his heart.  “I miss you."  
  
"Louis."  There’s a long sigh, a sound full of so much unspoken emotion it makes his heart ache. "I miss you too.”  Another pause, one that makes him tuck the phone in tighter to his ear, wanting to reach across the miles and touch so much.  “What happened?"  
  
He knew that she’d ask him, had been trying to think of an answer that wouldn’t upset her ever since he’d decided to call her.  But he still hasn’t got one so he goes for the truth instead.  "I can't tell you and…and…" The rest of the words die in his throat.  They wouldn’t be able to describe the last few hours anyway. 

He’s not sure he’s ever going to be able to recount those.  
  
“Okay, it’s okay, baby.  We’ll talk about it when we all get home.”  She’s soothing him like a small child he realises.  He wonders vaguely what she can hear in his voice.  “Just tell me if you're hurt?”  
  
“I'm good...a few bumps and bruises.  Beaten up,” he adds, knowing she’ll understand that one.  This isn’t the first time she’s got a call in the early hours of the morning.  
  
“Okay.”  There’s relief in her tone and he’s glad he’s given her that.  But as the line goes quiet again he knows she’s working it all through and his heart sinks.  He didn’t just marry her because she’s beautiful: she’s the smart one in their partnership too.  “Danny?  Kono and Chin?  They okay?”

It’s interesting that she’s only mentioned those three names, he thinks, already knowing how the conversation is going to go as he confirms that Danny’s being kept in overnight for observation.  He doesn’t mention the fact that they’re _both_ being kept in; that really would get her on the first plane back to Oahu.

“And Steve?”

He’s alive, is the first thing he wants to say because for a moment back there, just for a moment, he really thought he’d never get to say that about his friend again.    
  
“How bad is it?”  
  
He really should say something, Grover knows that.  Silence isn’t his friend.  But the emotions bubbling up in his chest are threatening to swamp him.  And he hasn’t got time for that.  Not yet.  
  
“He's going to be fine.”  That’s what the doctors have told them.  Broken bones.  Extensive bruising. Concussion.  A punctured lung.  Nothing that can’t be cured with time and rest.  That’s not the problem though and they all know it.  
  
Renee does too.  “We can be on the next plane.  If you need us.”  
  
Her voice is soft, gentle, caressing.  He loves her even more.  Letting his lips curl up in smile, willing every ounce of love he feels into his voice, he pulls up his shoulders and takes a deep breath. “No, you go and enjoy yourselves for a few more days. I’ll be fine.”    
  
There’s a long silence at the other end and for a moment Grover thinks she’s going to argue.  Finally though there’s another sigh.  Closing his eyes he imagines the way she’s probably shaking her head, a fond, exasperated smile on her face.  “We're waiting for you,” she says, her voice so low he has to strain to hear her.  “Just remember that.  Me and the kids.  We'll be here.”  
  
He swallows hard against the lump in his throat. “I gotta go, baby.”

There’s a few more ‘I love you’s’ before he finally finishes the call.  Tucking his cell in his pocket he slumps against the wall, exhausted.  His ribs twinge painfully, reminding him that there is a comfortable chair with his name on it in Steve’s room. 

With a nod to the Navy guards, he pushes the door open, hesitating on the threshold.  Danny’s on the phone, just finishing a call.  He’s talking to Chin and Kono, Grover realises, but the way he’s pinching the bridge of his nose doesn’t promise good news.  Finishing the call he closes his eyes, letting his head fall back against his high-backed chair with a grimace.

“Bad news?”

With a jerk Danny’s head comes up, startled.  Instinctively, Grover puts his hands up in calming gesture.  It says something about just tired and exhausted and _worried_ they are.  Shaking his head apologetically Danny waves him over, before rubbing his hands over his eyes.  It’s obvious he’s struggling to stay awake.

Grover knows just how he feels.

Over the last few hours he’s offered several times to sit with Steve while Danny gets some sleep but they both know it’s not going to happen.  Underneath the exhaustion is an overwhelming need to be here.

In the bed Steve shifts restlessly.  He’s unconscious, a side effect of the pain medication, but his eyes are flickering under his closed eyelids.  His body might be trying to give in but his mind isn’t letting it.  Grover watches as Danny leans over, gently gripping his friend’s hand. Using his free hand to support his injured ribs he leans in further, mumbling something into Steve’s ear.  Gradually Steve’s body stills.

That’s an improvement, Grover thinks, as he eases himself into a chair beside Danny.  Not much, but it’s a start.  Three hours ago Steve had been fighting the staff and the medication, his mind taking him back to god knows where. 

He’d scared the hell out of all of them.

Eventually Danny sits back down and Grover sits quietly beside him, listening to the sound of Steve breathing in oxygen from the cannula under his nose.  The bruising on his face is a deep red, gradually turning purple, the skin puffy and swollen. There’s other dressings and strapping to protect his friend’s broken collar bone but it’s his face that most graphically tells the story of his ordeal. 

Their Commander is going to have a painful few weeks ahead of him.

As he leans forward to tuck in the cocoon of blankets that surround his sleeping friend Grover can feel Danny watching him.  Danny’s waiting for him to ask about the telephone call with Chin and Kono, he knows that.  But he’s had enough.  This here, right in front of him, this is _more_ than enough.

There shouldn’t _be_ any more.

Danny sucks in loudly and Grover braces himself.  “So.  The CIA finally let Chin and Kono go.  On the understanding that they’re available for interview later.  And so are we.” 

There’s a note of grim satisfaction in Danny’s voice, Grover notes with a sinking heart.  The younger man’s looking for a fight and the CIA is as good a target as any.  “What about Brown and O’Neill?” he asks into the uneasy silence that’s fallen over them.  “They want to talk to them too?”

“Yeah.”  Danny catches his eye, a small grin appearing on this face.  “When they can find them.”

It’s not a surprise really that they’ve gone to ground, Grover thinks.  They already know Steve’s capable of the same thing – and they must have known it would come to this.  Hell, Steve probably helped them plan it in advance.  The thought that they’ve outwitted the CIA makes him chuckle softly. 

He hopes they’re okay though.

“And Rosso?  Did the CIA ask them about him?”  Danny meets his eyes but doesn’t say anything.  It’s the elephant in the room, the one thing they can’t really talk about, not with so many ears listening.  If Nika was right then Stanley Rosso is a traitor to his country.  And if Agent Baker was involved, a senior CIA officer, then things only get worse. 

“Denning’s still running interference,” Danny offers finally, throwing a worried glance over his shoulder at the closed door.  “He’s arguing jurisdiction with the CIA.  Chin thinks he knows it’s a losing battle.  But he says he’s never seen the Governor so angry.  So at least we’ve still got one person on our side.”

What they really need to be able to do is talk about it between them, Grover thinks, watching as Danny’s lips purse into a worried, thin line.  Just the five of them, like it always is.  But they can’t.  And they’re not going to be able to for a while, he acknowledges, his gaze drifting over to Steve asleep in the bed. 

They’re on their own for this one.

The sound of the door creaking open gets their attention.  One of the Navy guards sticks his head around the edge.  Frowning, he scans them and then the room itself.  It’s something he’s been doing every thirty minutes or so.  Whether he’s their jailer or their guard Grover’s not sure but it’s starting to get really annoying.

Apparently Danny agrees with him.  “You seen enough?  We’re all still here.”  Standing up, he gestures angrily at the bed.  “He hasn’t jumped out of the window, okay?  Okay?” he snaps as the guard glares back defensively before disappearing back behind the door and closing it quietly.  “Asshole!”

“Hey.”  Worried at his friend’s suddenly pale complexion, Grover waves him back to the chair.  “They’re just doing their job, man.”

With a sigh, Danny concedes, slumping down, head resting in his hands. “What, like Steve was doing his?”

Grover feels himself recoil at the bitterness in that short sentence. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Danny shuffles his feet, not raising his head.  “Nothing.”

It’s not though, is it?  “Danny…” 

“It’s… _them_ ,” his friend explains finally, waving his hand back at the door although his attention is on the man in the bed.  It’s not the guards he’s talking about, Grover gets that.  It’s the uniform they’re wearing.  What it represents.  “They’re the idiots that taught him to look out for others and not himself.  And he just keeps on doing it.  And I don’t…”  As his voice trails off, pained, resigned, Grover feels his heart clench.

This is the thing that’s been eating at Danny since the case started.  The man’s got a protective streak in him a mile wide and his closest friend keeps challenging that.  But sometimes you just have to accept that those you love have flaws.   “That’s not how Steve thinks,” he offers slowly, feeling his way carefully around the conversation.  “You know that.  That’s who he is, Danny.  You can’t change people.”

“I get that.  I do.  But he doesn’t have to do that anymore.” Sighing, he looks away.  “How does he not know that, Lou?  We’d help him.”

“He knows that.”

“Really?”   Danny looks up at him and Grover braces himself: Danny’s tired resignation is morphing quickly to anger.  “Really?  You think that?  Because I’m not seeing it.  I’ve followed him across the world to god forsaken countries that I never want to go to again, I risk my life…we risk _our_ lives, and he still has this fucked up Boy Scout mentality that means he won’t ask us for help.  And it’s eating me up, Lou…I just don’t know…I don’t know how much longer I want to do this…”

Danny stutters to a halt, shock written across his face.  Guiltily he looks across at the bed, his hand reaching out to touch his partner’s arm.  Whether it’s to check Steve is still asleep or it’s just to reassure himself that he’s just _there_ Grover’s not sure, but he waits him out silently.

“Shit.  I didn’t mean that.”

“He feels guilty because he never asked you if you wanted to stay.”  The words slip out of Grover’s mouth without thinking but he has to do something:  Danny sounds crushed. 

“What?”

Silently cursing the unconscious man in the bed for not being here to explain this himself Grover promises himself he’s going to have a serious man-to-man conversation with Steve McGarrett when he’s back on his feet.  “We were talking at the house.  That’s what he said.  He never asked you to stay.”  He pauses for a second, recalling, trying to read between the lines of what Steve had actually said to him.  “He never gave you the choice to leave.  He feels guilty about that.”

Danny’s staring at him, goldfish-like.  For a second he thinks he’s made a mistake, that he’s ventured into unspoken territory.  Suddenly though Danny’s animated again, hands moving as he turns to the bed.  “What the— There’s something very, very wrong with you, do you know that?  Of course I wanted to stay. You’re a menace, Steven.  A menace of a partner who was put on this earth to make my life…”

There’s more and Danny’s tirade would be funny if only Steve were awake to enjoy it, Grover thinks tiredly.  Instead the underlying thread of deep affection is smothered in a thick layer of frustration and pain.  To his relief Danny slowly winds down until just the harsh sound of his breathing fills the room.  When he eventually starts speaking again his voice is low, heavy with emotion.  Although Grover knows Danny’s talking to him all his attention is on his partner.  “When we first met…I wasn’t in a good place.  It was…Stan, he could give Grace everything, you know?  Somewhere to live, a good education.  Me, I had a crap apartment I could barely afford, no money and a job that kept eating the little amount of time I was allowed with my daughter.  On the bad days, you know, I thought…I thought about going back to Jersey.”

“Danny…”

“I know, okay.  I know.  But at the time it felt like a good idea.  She could have a new start, have some stability.  I couldn’t give her what she needed and I felt like…”  Grover rests his hand on his friend’s shoulder as Danny trails off, his fists clenching in his lap.  He can’t imagine how hard that must have been.  “She wanted a rabbit, Lou.” Danny rubs his hand across his eyes, then repeats the exercise with the back of his hand.  “Just a rabbit.  We talked about it for weeks.  I couldn’t have pets in my apartment, I told her that.”  Sighing, he meets Grover’s eyes.  “You know that look they give you sometimes, the one that makes you feel like the worse parent in the world?  My little girl, she did that.  So I figured okay, I gotta come up with something.  So I bought her—“

“—a giant pink toy rabbit?”

Danny looks up at him in surprise.  “How did you…?”  Grover nods at the bed and Danny follows his gaze, his expression suddenly pre-occupied, his face starting to scrunch into a frown.

“Steve said you gave it away,” he prompts gently as Danny’s frown grows.  “She didn’t like it?”

“What?”  Blinking, Danny looks up.  “No.  I don’t know.  I mean, I never gave it to her,” he explains, and Grover feels his heart sink as his friend’s shoulders slump and he pushes back in his chair, defeat written all over him.  “Before I could give it to her Stan and Rachel gave her a real rabbit.  Mr Hoppy.”

“Oh man.”

Danny flashes him a sad, resigned half-smile.  “Yeah.  What ya gonna do, huh?”

Biting his lip, Danny looks away and Grover gives him a moment, getting himself comfortable in his own chair.  Once the nurses had got Steve settled in his room they’d figured out quickly that their patient wasn’t going to be left on his own.  Extra chairs, pillows and blankets had followed shortly after.  The result is that he and Danny have comfy cocoons of their own to sleep in, upright ones that their injured ribs are particularly grateful for.  As he leans back Grover can feel his eyelids drooping and he blinks hard against the tired grittiness.

“He remembered the rabbit, huh?” Danny’s gaze is back on Steve again but he still sounds distracted, deep in thought. “Those first few days we worked together, I thought he was a certifiable lunatic.  He’d just listened to his father being murdered and all he could talk about was the mission and Hesse.  His Navy duffel bag and his laptop, that’s all he had with him and he was sleeping on his Dad’s floor and it was…it just wasn’t _right_ , Lou.” Sighing deeply, he reaches out to touch again.  “I thought I was lonely but…Jeez...  I had Grace here and I had my family back in Jersey.  And…yeah, I missed them but…they were just a phone call away.  He had… _nothing_.”

“Except the Navy. It’s important to him,” he follows up quickly, ignoring the stab of guilt as Danny’s head snaps up, anger flashing in his eyes. Steve’s not here to speak for himself: someone’s got to do it.  Even if the words do stick in his throat.  “The Navy was there for him when his Dad sent him—“

“They weren’t there for him then, Lou,” Danny cuts in sharply, his hands mirroring his speech as the words start coming thinking and fast, like bullets on a firing range.  “At the funeral.  At the house.  Clearing up the crime scene.  Trying to stop him from risking his life every day with his knuckleheaded stunts because everything was so fucking screwed up in his head he didn’t know what else to do except keep pushing, to see how far he could go before he’d break.”

The absolute certainty in Danny’s tone means the words hit him like a physical blow.  The idea seems so alien, something he’d never apply to Steve McGarrett. “You think he was trying to _hurt_ himself?”

Biting on his bottom lip, Danny turns his attention back to the bed.  “I think he was in pain,” he explains quietly, all the anger suddenly draining from him, stripping his voice raw.  “And he didn’t know how to make it stop.”

“And you knew how that felt.”

He doesn’t expect his friend to reply to him.  Instinctively he knows he’s right.  The look of utter desolation that Danny shares with him still floors him though, steals away his breath. 

There would have been no way that Danny would have left then.  No way at all.  “You ever talked to him about it? About what happened back then?”

He already knows the answer but it says something for Danny’s level of exhaustion, Grover thinks, that he doesn’t launch into another argument.  Instead he rolls his eyes skywards before he leans back in his chair and pulls the blanket around him, tugging it up around his ears, almost high enough to hide the bruising on the side of his face. “We should get some sleep,” he mumbles into the fabric, before closing his eyes.

All Grover can see in the chair is the bundle of blanket and a shock of blonde hair.  It’s an effective way to end the conversation.

As silence closes in on the room it’s obvious that his friend’s not asleep but he lets him have the lie.   There’s going to be plenty of time for talking when they get out of here – talking of the mandated kind.

Rearranging his blanket so that he can get over to the bed in a hurry if he needs to, he leans back and lets his eyes drift closed.  Focusing on the steady sound of Steve’s breathing, of the proof of life it represents, he takes a long breath, trying to make himself relax.  There’s a niggling itch at the back of his mind though which won’t let him rest.  Pulling up a mental image of Renee and the kids on the beach in Maui he tries again.  Imagining the feel of Renee’s skin under his fingers, of warm sand between his toes he evens out his breathing again. 

For a few minutes it works.  He’s there with them and his body starts to unwind. 

But then the itch turns into a rhythmic thud, thud, thud.  It’s his headache, he thinks, the one he’s been fighting ever since he’d been hit by Nika’s men.  The drugs are running out.  He needs another dose.  But the thudding turns to pounding: the sound of flesh hitting flesh.  And he can’t contain his panic as he realises it’s his brain taking him back there, to the Governor’s bunker.  To the video screen. 

Only now it’s added in the smell of blood and fear, from the warehouse.  And the combination is playing in vivid detail in his brain.  It’s like everything’s in slow motion, short clips playing in random order.  But it feels so _real_. Stanley’s eyes staring back at him.  Steve’s grunts of pain. 

And in the middle of all of it Nika’s grinning back at him, his eyes sparkling with laughter, like he’s in on a huge secret joke.

“Captain Grover?”

With a pained gasp he’s catapulted back into the hospital room.  The smell of disinfectant is warring with the phantom smell of blood and Grover feels himself gag, rapidly pushes himself upright before he can actually throw up.  The harsh sound of his own panting fills his head and he swipes at the sweat beading on his forehead.

Beside him Danny’s leaning over the bed, one hand gently resting on Steve’s shoulder.  “Shh…shh.  We’re okay.  See?  Lou’s here.  And Chin and Kono are on their way.”

Steve’s actually awake, he realises, as he untangles himself from his blanket. His blue eyes are full of confusion, barely focusing, but he’s definitely conscious.  Leaning over to get into his friend’s line of sight he smiles, the first genuine smile he’s allowed himself for days.  “Hey, buddy.  Good to have you back.”

Steve’s only reply is a slow blink as he tries to move his head.  Danny’s there before him, gently placing two fingers under his chin.  The light touch is enough to stop the weak movement.  Grover swallows against the sudden lump in his throat.

“Captain Grover?”

The female voice behind him makes his jump and he can’t stop a hiss of pain escaping as he twists round.  Belatedly he realises it wasn’t Danny’s voice that had dragged him back from his nightmare.

It was Angelique’s.  She’s standing by the half-open door.  Out in the corridor, there’s the sound of raised voices and rushed footsteps. 

“How did you get in here?”  If Danny was pissed at the Navy guards then he’s furiously angry at Stanley Rosso’s wife, Grover thinks as he carefully looks back over his shoulder at his friend.  His bruised face is red, his shoulders bunched.  He’s still leaning over his partner but now he’s directly in front of him, blocking him from view, from the doorway. From Angelique.

It’s not a bad idea.  Her husband’s just been accused of being a traitor to his country.  And she’s supposed to be with him.  Next door.  With their CIA guards.

As they glare back at her she raises her chin defiantly, and for a second he’s reminded of the arrogant, self-assured woman they met off the plane.  That seems like a lifetime ago.

“You don’t live in Washington for so many years without making a few friends of your own,” she replies finally, raising her hands as she speaks.  Not a bad idea, Grover thinks, as Danny tenses beside him.  “I don’t… _we_ don’t trust the CIA anymore.   So I’ve asked for another security detail.”

There’s a snort of laughter beside him but there’s no humour in the sound.  “And they agreed?” Danny asks, his voice full of disbelief.  “Just like that?  Seriously?”

“Seriously.”  The word sounds so wrong coming out of her mouth but her intent is clear on her face.  “We won’t have long though,” she adds, a more familiar hint of impatience creeping through.  “Someone will eventually countermand the order and send the other guards back.”

Danny hasn’t budged an inch, Grover notes with approval as he voices the question that’s hanging between them.  “We won’t have long for what?”

“To talk to Stanley.  He wants to tell you what happened in Afghanistan.”

She’s so sure of herself, Grover thinks, feeling his blood pressure start to edge up.  Maybe a thank you wouldn’t be out of order right now – her husband is alive because of them, because Steve stopped Nika from beating the crap of out him.  “Why do we want to know that?” he asks, slowly pulling himself to his feet. “Our job is done.  Nika’s in custody.  Your husband is safe.”  And honestly?  If he’s really honest, he’s just too fucking tired to care.

Her flinch is almost imperceptible but he catches it anyway, feels himself scowling in response.  “You don’t think he’s safe,” he hears himself saying.  Behind him he can hear Danny huff with irritation.

“I’ll let Stanley explain.”

Reluctantly, he turns.  Danny’s lips are clenched tight; it’s obvious he’s holding himself back.  He’s got one hand on Steve’s arm as his friend’s eyelids gently slide closed again. 

“I’ll go,” Grover offers half-heartedly, checking on Steve one last time before he turns to follow Angelique out of the room.  They need to know the truth, or at least Rosso’s version of it.  The CIA whitewashed the records last time; they’ve got to assume they’ll do the same again.

H50H50H50H50

“Did you sleep with her?  Nika’s daughter - did you sleep with her?”

Rosso blinks back at him, surprised Grover guesses, at his brusque tone.  He’s deliberately skipped the pleasantries.  Angelique’s probably right; they’re only going to have a small window of opportunity.  And he’s not here to listen to some sob story.  He just wants the hard facts.

Angelique sits down beside her husband’s bed, straightening out her skirt and crossing her legs as she gets comfortable.  Slowly Rosso brings his hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose.  He’s got an IV in one arm, Grover notices, and there’s extra padding under the blankets, over his injured leg.  Apart from some bruising on his face though he doesn’t look too bad for someone who only a few hours earlier was barely conscious.  Whatever drugs Baker had given him were obviously designed to only have a short-term effect.

“I didn’t know who she was,” he starts, still massaging his nose. “I swear I didn’t know who she was.  It was an evening event, part of my scheduled itinerary.  I had no reason…I had no reason to think…”

Pulling a chair over, Grover lowers himself down. “So you did sleep with her?” Part of him had still been hoping that Nika was lying.  The sense of disappointment hits him low in the gut. 

With a sigh Rosso finally meets his gaze.  “I kissed her, that was all,” he confesses tiredly, sharing a glance with his wife before continuing.  “It didn’t mean anything.  She was at the event.  She introduced herself, said her Uncle was a financier, supporting the Afghan Government.  She was…good company.  She—“

“She approached him,” Angelique cuts in, not giving him time to finish.  “He didn’t make the first move.”

That’s really a moot point, Grover thinks to himself, although it’s interesting that Angelique obviously knows a lot more than she had been letting on.  The important point is that Nika’s daughter shouldn’t have been there in the first place.  “So nobody else recognised her?” he asks, thinking out aloud.  “The CIA officers with you didn’t say anything?”

Rosso lets out a laugh, a weak, shaky one, and Grover feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.  “It was mainly Afghan security that night.”

“But Steve said…”  He trails off as Angelique raises her eyebrows, tries to nudge his tired brain into action and make it remember exactly what Steve had told them in his initial briefing.  “There were problems with security, intelligence leaks.  Why would the CIA let them guard you?”

“Agent Baker assured me that his team would still be watching in the background.  It was a gesture of…goodwill…to the Afghan government.”

A gesture of goodwill that could have led to an international incident, Grover realises, as another shiver creeps down his spine.  A gesture that had ended with Agent Baker beaten to death in a warehouse in Hawaii.

How the _hell_ had they got to this point?

“In my naivety, I forgot one very important point.  I thought the CIA team was there to protect my interests.  The CIA only ever looks after itself.”

That’s kinda obvious, Grover thinks to himself, but hindsight is always a bitch.  “So Baker told you who she was after the party?”

“No.”

“I don’t understand---“

“Just let me explain.”  Rosso’s gaze keeps flicking back to the closed door.  The CIA’s going to be back for him soon, Grover reminds himself, the thought touching on something that’s been bugging him since he entered the room. Apart from his understandable tiredness Rosso doesn’t seem that phased.  Unlike in the warehouse there’s no panic, no sense of guilt or remorse coming from Rosso.  And Angelique is just radiating calm.

“I was in Kabul for a further two days,” Rosso continues quietly.  “It was on the last night when men broke into my room and kidnapped me.  I can’t remember much about it, I think they drugged me.  But when I woke up I was locked in a room.  With her.”

“With who?” he asks automatically, more interested in their body language now rather than what they’re actually saying.  Something’s _off_.  It’s like they’re just chatting over coffee, not discussing an incident that could have destroyed international relations.  Or could have ended Stanley Rosso’s life.

“Nika’s daughter.  She said they’d kidnapped her to blackmail her Uncle.”

“And you believed her?”

“Why wouldn’t I? There really wasn’t much time for thinking, Captain,” Rosso replies, a hint of annoyance finally breaking through.  “I’d been kidnapped.  As I’m sure you can understand, all I was worried about was staying alive.”

“I’m sorry,” he offers, keeping his own voice low.  “It must have been very traumatic.”

“It was…”  For a second Rosso drifts off, looks away, his expression clouding over.  Maybe the man is genuinely upset, Grover thinks, wanting desperately to be right, remembering the conversations they’d had back at the house.  The cynical cop’s voice at the back of his mind has other ideas though; Rosso’s a good actor who’s got one over on you, it keeps telling him.

With a shake of his head, Rosso catches his eye again.  “Nika…he…umm...he used her to try and get me to talk.  He kept saying he would hurt her. And I thought that if I just said something, anything…then perhaps--”

“—he wouldn’t hurt her anymore?”  Remembered fear is visible in Rosso’s eyes, Grover notes, as he silently files away the information about Nika’s daughter.  The first stirrings of sympathy make him soften his tone.  It’s a raw, visceral type of fear that he’s only seen from the victims of violent crimes.  He sincerely doubts Stanley is that good an actor, despite all the years he worked in Washington.  “Like Steve said, you were under duress.  No one would blame you for that.” 

Rosso nods, smiles weakly at his wife as she clasps his hand. “I’m not Commander McGarrett.  I couldn’t do what he did…” Breaking off he shudders, covering his face with one hand.  “How is he?” he asks, his voice muffled.  “I asked one of the guards to check and he said he’ll be alright but—“

“He’ll be fine.”  ‘Eventually’ Grover feels like adding but the clock is ticking and they need to keep on track.

“Good.  Good.  I’m glad.”  Rosso drifts off again, looks away from both of them.  “I didn’t mean for anyone else to get hurt when I decided to end this,” he announces anxiously into the silence.   “I never thought there would be anyone in Hawaii that could stop—“

“Whoa.  Slow down.  When you decided to end what?”  Two pairs of eyes swing round to look at him and Grover knows he’s raised his voice but what the _hell_?

“This agreement between Nika and Agent Baker.”

The accusation is delivered so casually, so calmly, like ‘isn’t the sky blue today’ or ‘is that one sugar or two’ that Grover almost misses it.  And then his brain catches on, throwing him into a dizzying spiral of confusion.

“Stanley.  You don’t actually know that they had an agreement.”

The warning tone in Angelique’s voice does absolutely nothing to help explain what the hell is going on, Grover thinks, as he struggles to get his thoughts in order.  She’s sharing a look with her husband but he can’t decipher it.  And he doesn’t get a chance to ask because they’re interrupted by a buzzing sound. 

It’s a text on Angelique’s phone.  And it’s announcing that the CIA team are on their way back to the hospital.

They stare at each other in silence until Rosso closes his eyes briefly, takes a deep breath and starts talking again.  “I _believe_ they were working together,” he says, lingering on the second word.  “Baker was forcing me to help them by blackmailing me.  He had…evidence…of what happened when I was held captive.  If that evidence had got out…”

Then at the very least Rosso’s career would have been over, Grover finishes for him silently.  The photo of Rosso and Nika’s daughter would have been enough to ensure that.  But the fact that the CIA were working with an international terrorist?  That would have had repercussions around the world.  “I’m still not getting it,” he confesses, still working through the facts.  “Assuming they were working together – and you’re gonna have to explain to me why you think that – then how were you going to get them to stop?”

“By admitting what I did,” Rosso explains, looking nonplussed at the question.  “Blackmail relies on secrets that cannot be shared.  You remove the secrets, you remove the blackmail.”

“But you just said---“ Shaking his head, Grover feels his jaw click shut as the pieces slowly slide into place.  “Everything that’s happened since you’ve been in Hawaii, with Nika, with Baker, it’s what you _wanted_ to happen.  That’s why you’re so calm.”

“It was time to stop running,” Angelique cuts in.   “No more secrets.”  She shares another glance with her husband, one that makes him wonder just who made that final decision.

“But why didn’t you say something earlier?  It’s been over a decade since Afghanistan.  Why stop this now?  Why not say something back---“

Rosso’s shaking his head even before he’s finished the question and Grover feels his blood pressure shoot up even further.  “Who would I have told?  To begin with I thought it was a genuine CIA operation.  That I was helping them to track Nika, to get information about his activities.  And I kept telling myself that because it was…because I was worried about Angelique.  It was safer that way.  It wasn’t until much later that I suspected what was going on.  And by then I was thoroughly implicated.”

And that might be partly true, Grover thinks, knowing how far he’d go to protect Renee.  Or the kids.  But Rosso’s casual tone is creeping back, too glib, too polished.  “So what the hell did you think was going to happen when you called their bluff, huh?  Did you think they’d just let you go?”

“Perhaps.”  Head tilted to one side Rosso watches him, like he’s a specimen under a microscope.  Grover forces himself to not clench his fists.  “I just know I wanted it to stop.  It wasn’t until we got here and we met Commander McGarrett that it occurred to me how desperate Agent Baker would be to maintain the cover up, or how much Nika could benefit from exposing it.”

It fit with what Steve suspected, Grover thinks; that they wanted the ex-SEAL there either to take the blame if things went wrong or as a trophy for the Taliban leader.  Or perhaps the reality was that Baker and Nika had conflicting agendas; the fact that Baker hadn’t survived seemed to support that theory.  It also possibly explained why the Rossos were so scared to see McGarrett; they hadn’t factored him into their plan, maybe wondered who he was actually working for.

But what really makes him want to hit something is that Rosso’s naivety (or arrogance, and right now Grover’s not sure which it is) nearly cost Steve his life.  If he’d told them when he’d arrived at the very least the Governor would have put a stop to the operation before it started.  But he didn’t.  And he can’t help thinking there’s only one reason for that.  “You were worried about your reputation.  Everything that’s happened – the deaths, the secrets you gave away – it’s all been to protect your goddamn reputation.”

He doesn’t quash the sense of satisfaction he feels when Angelique’s face flushes, her shell of indifference wavering.  “No!  He influenced people. He made things happen.  But he didn’t pass on any secrets.”

“He made things _happen_? What things did you help make happen?”

“Drugs?  Money laundering?  Would you believe me if I told you I never asked?”

Part of him wants to laugh out loud because the idea is just so incredibly insane.  But there is something that is bothering him much, much more.  “You didn’t tell anyone.  For over _ten_ years.” 

He’s barely holding back his anger so when Rosso raises his hand in what feels like a condescending call for calm he can feel his control slipping.  “Yes, I could have tried harder.  I know that.  I’m not proud of what I’ve done, Captain Grover. I made the decisions that I thought were right at the time.  That’s the best that any of us can do.”

“You should have told someone.”  He’s sounding like a tired, broken down old record, he knows that.  But things could have been so different. 

“You have to go, Captain Grover.”

Angelique’s got her phone in her hand again, he notices.  But he’s got one more very important thing he needs to ask.  “In the warehouse, you said Petty Officer Almeida didn’t shoot the women and children.  So, what actually happened when the SEAL teams went in to rescue you?”

He feels his heart sink as Rosso gets comfortable on his pillows, refusing to meet his gaze.  “They’re going to take me into custody.  If you want to stay and be arrested with me, be my guest.”

It’s Rosso’s tone of dismissal that has him rising from his chair, makes him lean over to make eye contact.  Early on in his police career he’d learnt there were advantages to being very tall.  “Tell me.”

When Rosso lifts his chin though, his expression determined, Grover knows it’s not going to work.  “As I said, I’m sorry.  But nothing I can say now will change what happened to those men and women.” 

Apart from damaging Rosso’s reputation even further, Grover thinks.  Suddenly he wants nothing more than to smash the expression of calm acceptance off the other man’s face.  Instead he pretends to consider Rosso’s statement and then he leans down until they are face to face.  The anger he’s been keeping a tight rein on is bubbling under his skin, searching for an outlet. Letting it loose isn’t an option though so he consoles himself with the flicker of fear that crosses Rosso’s face.  “What happened is that people _died._   And the people who put their lives at risk to rescue you were dragged into this because you lied. Just remember that when you kid yourself you’re not running anymore.” 

Rosso blinks first, looks away, his Adam’s apple bobbing.  Gritting his teeth, Grover pushes himself upright.  Despite everything that’s happened, it’s not in his nature to attack people when they’re at their lowest point.  And somewhere in his mind he can hear Renee reminding him there’s always more than one side to any argument.  It’s that which stops him at the door, forces him to offer one last olive branch. 

“If there’s one thing I’ve learnt about working with Steve McGarrett, it’s courage,” he says, nodding over at the adjoining wall and the room beyond.  “What happened to you in Afghanistan, what happened today, it takes real courage to overcome things like that, man.  You’ve got that in you.  You can still change things, help put some ghosts to rest.  Think about it, huh?” he suggests softly, one hand on the door handle, as he turns to leave.  “Tell the CIA what really happened in that room.  Those Navy SEALs, they deserve that much.”

TBC

 


	10. Chapter 10

“Okay, Lou.  That’s the end of our session today.”

Startled, Grover looks up.  In the two weeks since the incident with Nika this is the third appointment he’s had with the therapist.  For the first two sessions the therapist had done most of the talking.  This time had been his turn.

He feels like he’s been through a gun battle with Nika’s men all over again.

His injuries have healed mostly; it’s only if he moves too fast that his ribs twinge, reminding him of what they went through.  In the next few days he’ll be going back to desk duties. After that, once the therapist has cleared him, he’ll be going back to full duties.

With a shaky smile Grover gets to his feet, making another appointment before he leaves the office.  His phone vibrates in his pocket as he talks to the receptionist.  It’s probably Renee; she’s worried, has been ever since she and the kids returned from Maui.  He knows he’s given her reason to worry; he’s been waking in a cold sweat nearly every night. 

He straightens his shoulders as he steps outside, gives himself a moment to drink in the sunlight.  It’s midday, busy with lunchtime traffic, the world is carrying on.  It’s one of the things he’s found hardest to deal with; the horror of what they’d been forced to watch in the Governor’s incident room seems unreal, it’s only at night the real horror comes out.  Until today; today’s session had been about bringing the memories out into the daylight.

A cold shiver runs down his spine. 

The sound of his phone ringing makes Grover shake himself down and take a deep breath.  He’s about to answer when he notices it’s not Renee calling.    “Danny?” he answers.  “Everything okay?”  There’s a pause at the other end, he feels his anxiety levels ramping up.  They’ve kept in touch over the last few weeks.  It’s not always been an easy time. 

“Just thought you might need someone to…talk to.  You’re looking kinda serious there, big guy.”

It takes a second for the words to sink in and then he looks around, confused.  Across the parking lot he finally sees it; a black Camaro.  Repaired after the firefight, its paintwork is sparkling in the sunlight.  Relief bubbles up, quashing some of the lingering memories.  At least Danny was there, he understands what it feels like. 

Sending a text to Renee to tell her he’ll get a lift back with Danny he reminds himself what the therapist keeps telling him; none of the way he is feeling is his fault.

“How you doing?” he asks as he slides into the passenger seat.  The seat is way too close to the dashboard so it takes a few minutes of fiddling with it before he can fit his legs in.  When he finally looks up Danny shrugs at him before starting the car.  Ah. 

“How did your session go?” Danny asks as they join the highway.  Eyes fixed on the traffic, he’s got both hands on the wheel.  Grover can’t remember the last time he saw his friend drive like that; his body is usually moving, even in the car. 

It’s a great attempt at deflecting.  It’s a shame it’s not going to work.  “Tough one, huh?”

With an impatient huff Danny finally looks at him.  “How about I don’t want to talk about it?”

“How about I do?”

“Lou…”

“Danny…”

“Fine!  It was shitty, okay?” his friend shoots back.  “Details, Lou.  I had to go over the details.  And every time…every time I do that I keep thinking of something else I could have done different.  Something to stop Steve…to stop Nika…”  His knuckles whitening on the steering wheel, Danny’s voice trails off.  Biting his lip he looks away.

“Sorry.”  Grover looks out of the window, guilt making his stomach roil.  It’s not in his nature to cause someone pain but there’s already too many people not talking about what happened.  If Danny does the same, locks it all away, he’s not sure how he’ll keep going.  How Steve will keep going.

And Danny did wait for him after his own appointment.  Whether the other man knows it or not, he wants to talk.

“I had to do the same,” he says into the heavy silence, hoping Danny understands, relieved when his friend nods.  “It always feels so real, you know?”

“I know.”  Danny’s sighed reply speaks volumes. 

They fall into another silence but it’s easier, Grover notes with relief.  The last thing he wants is to be on his own, with only his thoughts for company.  And as Danny gradually starts talking about the kids and the traffic and anything else that catches his eye he guesses his friend feels the same.

“I’m going over to Steve’s.  You wanna come with?”  The offer comes in the middle of a very long monologue about the cost of Grace’s dance classes.  Grover’s brain blips at the question, just long enough for Danny to frown and wave his question away.  “Hey, don’t worry.  I’ll take you home if—“

“No, I’m good.  Let’s go,” he interrupts, deliberately injecting a positive note into his tone.  It’s not that he doesn’t want to see his friend.  It’s just the guilt he feels every time he sees him doesn’t seem to be getting less.

They all seem to be stuck in a loop of regrets.

By the time they pull up in McGarrett’s driveway though Grover’s in a more positive frame of mind.  He’s spoken to Renee, explained the change of plan.  Her voice is like a soothing balm on his mind and although he can hear the worry in his voice she covers it well.  He’s promised to cook dinner, just the four of them, and he’s smiling when he tucks the cell back in his pocket.

His good mood lasts all of five minutes.  Steve seems off, surprised to see them, despite the fact at least one of the team always visits him to share lunch.  A quick glance at Danny tells him he’s not imagining it.

“You okay, Steve?”  Danny asks, pushing past his partner and through to the kitchen.  Lips pursed in a tight line, Steve follows him, his eyebrows drawn together into a V.  “You got food in here?  We’re starving.”

The question is rhetorical, Grover knows that.  They’ve been taking it in turns to visit Steve and make sure he’s got food; the man could survive a natural disaster on the amount of supplies they’ve got stockpiled in his house.  So it’s a big surprise when Steve, who’s still standing in the kitchen doorway, shakes his head.

Head cocked, Danny studies his partner, his nose scrunching up at what he sees.  “You got an appointment? Somewhere else you need to be?”

“No,” Steve replies, shuffling on the spot, his feet bare beneath his boardies.  “I just…  I’m not hungry.”

“Really?” 

The disbelief in Danny’s voice is clear and Grover understands why.  The first ten days had been rough on their friend.  Food hadn’t been high on his agenda.  The last few days though it had felt like they’d turned a corner.  Steve had been eating more, interacting more.  Granted, talk had still been hard to come by but they were working on that. 

Or at least he’d thought they were.

Much of the bruising on Steve’s face has faded down to a mottled yellow.  There’s one huge dark bruise left; the Doctors’ had been surprised his jaw wasn’t broken.  He’s still paler than normal but the worrying heat in his cheeks has gone.  The skin under his eyes is still grey, giving his eyes a sunken appearance.  But there’s been a spark of life back in them over the last few days.  Grover feels his heart sink as he studies Steve now; his expression is closed down, just like it had been in the hospital.

“Fine.  I’ll just make something for me and Lou then.”

That’s not the answer Steve was hoping for, Grover notes, as the other man looks away, a muscle in his jaw twitching.  He uses his sound hand to rub at his injured shoulder, his fingers resting on the worn tee-shirt material, massaging the muscle underneath.  It’s obvious he’s in some discomfort but asking about it won’t help.

On the other side of the kitchen Danny’s got his head in the fridge, sorting through the contents, making hmpf noises as he works.  He’s annoyed, Grover acknowledges, as he moves on to the cupboards, obviously familiar with his partner’s house. 

Since the warehouse they’ve all had good days and bad ones.  It’s looking like today was going to be a bad one for all of them.  Maybe coming over straight after their sessions with their therapists wasn’t such a bright idea.  Everything’s too raw, too fresh in his memory.  It’s making it difficult to think about anything else, Grover admits to himself, grimacing as the memories nudge at the edge of his consciousness, like a lingering nightmare that won’t go away.

“You okay, Lou?”  The concern in Steve’s voice is just _wrong_.  It’s not him who should be worried about _them_.  Grover doesn’t get a chance to reply though; forehead creased, Steve’s working something out.  “Damn, I forgot you had your appointment with—“

 “Stop talking.  Start eating you big lug.”  Danny’s sliding in between them, nudging his partner on his good arm, trying to move him towards the kitchen table. 

Steve stubbornly plants his feet, his good hand automatically coming up to cup his bad shoulder.  ‘Fragile’ is the word that springs into Grover’s mind.   And it makes him feel guilty as hell.

“Eat.”  Now he’s the one who Danny’s nudging towards the table.  Danny’s expression is enough to make him do as he’s told; he’s not the only one who’s struggling.  “We’re fine, okay?” Danny adds as Steve glares at him but takes a seat anyway. 

They’ve barely started eating though before there’s a knock at the front door.  Sighing Steve carefully places his fork on top of his untouched food.

“You expecting someone, Steven?” Danny asks, instantly suspicious.

Steve pushes himself to his feet.  “I told you I wasn’t hungry,” he mutters and disappears out the door.

“What the hell…?”  With a frown Danny gets up to look out of the kitchen window.  When he curses under his breath Grover gets up to join him.

There’s a black sedan outside.  With Navy insignia on the side. 

“Damn.”  Grover knows he’s already talking to himself.  Danny’s striding out of the kitchen, his expression murderous.  The Navy insignia has acted on Danny like a red rag on a bull.  He’s still angry about how loyal his partner is despite the way he thinks the Navy has treated him.  And the fact that Steve was trying to keep the visit secret doesn’t bode well.

Out in the living room Grover’s confronted with a standoff.  On one side of the coffee table Danny is standing hand on hips, chin jutted out, ready to do battle.  On the other side there’s a woman in Navy uniform, beside her is a man in a dark suit, white shirt and suit.  The tie he’s wearing looks ridiculously out of place.  CIA his brain suggests and he feels his stomach sink to his feet.

And off to one side Steve’s standing with his feet planted wide, his good arm cradling his bad one, his head tipped back as he studies the ceiling.  Grover imagines he can hear teeth grinding.

“Commander McGarrett, as we explained to you on the phone the information we are going to share with you is classified so—“

“Classified?”

“—it’s classified,” the woman continues, ignoring Danny’s outburst, “so there cannot be any civilians present.  If you would like us to leave we—“

“It’s fine.”  Steve’s Navy tone is back, Grover notes with a sense of foreboding.  

Three people in the room immediately stand taller.  Unfortunately Danny seems immune. “Yeah, it’s fine,” he raps out, pinning the two strangers to the spot with his gaze.  “We’re Five-0, so that kind of means we’re not civilians.  There’s nothing you could say that would surprise us.  We’ve been working with this idiot for too long.”

Grover’s not sure if it’s the word ‘idiot’ or Danny’s deliberate misunderstanding of the situation that gets Steve’s attention but finally he looks down, his expression tired but determined.  “I need to talk to them, okay?”

“What are you going to talk to them about?”

“Danny…”

“Because last time the CIA and Navy came knocking that didn’t go so well.”  Danny’s building up to a rant of epic proportions, Grover can see that.  The two strangers are watching with no discernible expression on their faces.  “And I for one would prefer not to live through that again.”

Grover feels himself suck in a sharp breath.  Danny’s only voicing exactly what he’d been thinking too.  But the words still cut deep.

“Danny.  Please.”

Steve’s exhausted plea cuts even deeper.  He can see that on Danny’s face; the sorrow in his eyes, the way he’s biting his bottom lip as he looks away.  The visitors shuffle, their boredom clear.   Grover throws them a look and they freeze, guilt flashing across their faces. 

Raising two teenage kids is equipping him with all sorts of life skills.       

“So if I leave you alone with these two shmucks, will you be here when we get back?”  Danny’s delivered his question calmly but there’s a world of hurt underlying it. Grover can feel it tugging painfully like an invisible tie between them. 

“I will.”  Steve’s voice is so quiet they can barely hear him. 

Danny considers his friend for a moment, head tilted to one side.  “Fine.” 

Decision apparently made he strides back into kitchen.  When he reappears with two plates of food Grover can’t contain a smile.  “One of those for me?” he asks, holding out his hand.  “We going al-fresco?”

“We are.  What?” he adds, as the CIA man opens his mouth.  “You didn’t actually think we were going to leave, did you?”

From the look on the two visitors’ faces it’s clear they did.  But Steve stops any more arguments by stiffly reaching around them to grab a cushion and throw it on the recliner.  As he lowers himself down, shifting the cushion to support his back, the visitors mirror him, their eyes still full of distrust.  “Enjoy your lunch,” he throws back over his shoulder, his gaze sharpening as he turns his attention on the two interlopers.

“Enjoy your lunch,” Danny mutters under his breath as they go out onto the lanai, closing the door behind them.  To Grover’s surprise they carry on walking through the yard and down to the water’s edge.  “Why the hell won’t he tell us what is going on?”

Grover waits until they’re seated before replying.  “Give him time.”

“You saying I need to be patient?” Danny retorts around a mouthful of food.  “’Not really my strong point, Lou.“

“Let’s just see what happens,” he encourages, chewing slowly on his own food. 

They fall into an uneasy silence, lost in their own thoughts.  Grover finds his attention drifting back to the house; beside him he can sense Danny doing the same. 

“So what do you think they’re talking about,” Danny says, once they’ve finished their food.  “It’s gotta be about Nika, right?  I mean, there’s nothing else?”

I damn well hope so Grover thinks but keeps it to himself.  The McGarrett house has always been a place of secrets.  There’s got to be more hidden in the woodwork. 

The way Danny’s looking at him suggests he’s thinking the same thing.  “Okay, I know there’s always something else with Steve,” he says, confirming Grover’s thoughts.  “But I figure we’ve gotta get lucky sometime, huh?” 

“Yup.”

“Yup?”  Danny looks over at him, arms frozen mid-wave and he lets himself smile.  “That’s all you’ve got?”

He pretends to seriously consider the question before replying, “Yup” again.  He sobers up though when Danny settles back in his chair with an impatient huff. “Maybe they’ve got more news about Baker,” he offers instead, verbalising the thoughts racing through his head.  “The CIA guy came along for the ride for some reason.  Or maybe,” he adds hesitantly, not believing his own words but desperately wanting them to be true, “maybe Rosso’s given them more information.”

Danny’s sceptical expression sums up his own feelings well.  In the two weeks since they last saw him Stanley Rosso hasn’t contacted them.  The knowledge lies heavy in his gut and he knows it’s at the root of the guilt that’s been eating at him.  They’d needed him to get the full story from Rosso. 

“It’s not your fault, Lou.”  Danny squeezes his shoulder lightly.

“I should have tried harder with Rosso,” he replies, repeating what he’d told his therapist earlier that day.  “I’m a cop, Danny.  A good one.”

“And so am I.”  The hand disappears from his shoulder and Grover feels himself tense in anticipation.  “But I still let someone kidnap my partner and beat the crap out of him.”

That statement is so untrue that Grover doesn’t know where to start.  Instead he returns Danny’s gesture and rests a hand on his shoulder.  “We’ll get over this.  We all will.”

“I wish they’d hurry up.”  All of Danny’s attention is fixed back on the house.  “I don’t trust them. We shouldn’t have left him in there on his own.”

He’s not exactly defenceless Grover wants to say.  But then he remembers his own thoughts earlier.  That McGarrett looked fragile.  Vulnerable. 

Shit.

The sound of the front door closing breaks into their thoughts.  They freeze, listening hard.  Car doors slam, followed by the crunching noise of tyres running over gravel. 

“You think it’s safe to go in now?” he says but already he’s talking to an empty space.  Danny’s heading for the lanai with a determined stride.

“Steve, you okay?  Steve?”  Danny’s got foot in the living room and there’s a note in his voice that gets Grover moving.  As he makes it to the lanai he’s more relieved than he’s willing to admit to see Steve sitting where they’d left him.  But his friend is sitting slouched on his couch, his head in his hands. 

Danny pauses, unsure with the lack of response.  But then he’s moving in the way that only Danny can, wearing his emotions on his sleeve, his eyes soft with concern.  “Babe?” he asks softly, sitting on the couch close to his partner, shifting so they’re only inches apart.  “Want to tell us what’s going on?”

Danny’s frustration of moments before has gone, Grover notes, as he takes a seat at the other end of the couch, easing himself down slowly to not disturb his friends.  Right in this moment they are as close as they’ve ever been, safe in each other’s space.  They sit in silence until Danny gently nudges his friend with arm.  He cocks an eyebrow when Steve finally lowers one hand to look at him sideways.

“When they called I thought they were coming to tell me…nothing, I guess,” Steve explains, leaning back to look at each of them in turn.  “I didn’t think they were going to let me—“  He halts, takes a deep breath, starts again.  “I didn’t tell you they were coming because I thought they wouldn’t tell me anything.   With Baker dead I figured…well I figured there’d be a cover up again.”

“But?”   Danny’s voice is equal parts fear and hope, Grover thinks.  He knows how he feels. 

“I kept hoping that maybe…”  Steve swallows, looks away and back again.  “Rosso talked.”  Grover forces himself to sit still as Steve’s gaze falls on him.  “He told them what happened while he was held captive, what happened when we raided the compound.”

“And?” Grover asks quietly when Steve falls silent again, lost in thought.

“He lied at the original enquiry.”

They already knew that but Grover knows that’s not what’s making his heart thud.  It’s the fact that Rosso’s admitted it, that the Navy and the CIA have done the same.  It means they’ve got a chance of finding out the whole truth.  Assuming everyone involved confesses.

“Nika?”

Danny’s question goes unanswered but the look of disappointment on Steve’s face gives them the information they need.  It had been a long shot, Grover acknowledges.  “And Baker?”

Steve’s mouth moves but no words come out.  “Take your time,” Danny encourages as his partner huffs impatiently at himself.  It can’t be easy, Grover thinks, to suddenly have the facts to something that you’ve wondered about for so long.  Whatever Steve’s been told has left him shaken.  It takes a lot to do that to the ex-SEAL.

During the next half hour they learn exactly what that is.  Steve gradually gives them the details, putting the pieces together himself as he explains it to both of them. 

Rosso’s meeting with Nika’s daughter in Afghanistan had been a setup, just as the ex-politician had claimed.  Just who had done the setting up wasn’t that clear.  The CIA had claimed it was Nika but Grover can tell from Steve’s voice he still suspects Baker’s involvement.  The lack of a CIA protection detail that night is highly suspicious.  Either way, they’re agreed on the reason for it: to discredit a senior member of the US Government.  And Rosso had walked straight into the trap.  His libido had delivered him into Nika’s hands.

Just how Nika managed to kidnap Rosso so easily is still ‘under investigation’ Steve tells them with a snort of disbelief.  Baker again, Grover thinks, putting the pieces together as well.  Danny’s brain is working along the same lines, he can tell.   It’s confirmed when he asks if the CIA guy said Baker was working alone.  Steve’s nod of affirmation doesn’t fool either of them.  Steve thinks the CIA guy was lying.  But at least this time he’d got to look someone from the CIA in the eye and ask them. 

There wasn’t going to be a cover up this time.

Danny shifts closer, leans forward, as Steve starts to recount what happened to Rosso in captivity.  Steve’s good at compartmentalising.  Grover’s always admired that.  But things are starting to blur together, the personal aspect and the job. 

Rosso had been kept in a room with Nika’s daughter.  He still claimed he hadn’t recognised her, had believed her claim that her father was an important supporter of the government and that Nika had kidnapped her for a ransom.  She’d been distraught, he’d comforted her.

Terrified, confused, it had apparently never occurred to him that Nika was recording everything. 

Staying alive was the only thing he’d been focused on.  When Nika had got the call to say that SEAL teams had been deployed to their location his feeling of relief had overrun everything else.  And that’s when Nika’s men had bought the local group of men, women and children into the room.  Silent, scared, they’d been herded like sheep.  Huddled, they’d waited.

Until they’d heard the helicopters approaching.

Chaos is the way Rosso had described it, Steve explained.  Which was exactly how Steve had described it during their original briefing, Grover remembered. Noise.  Shouting.  People scared.  So much noise it had been difficult to know what was going on. 

“So what happened when Ed got there?”  Danny prompts when Steve stops, his eyes drifting closed.  “Steve?”

“Rosso doesn’t speak Pashto.”  He opens his eyes as they stare back at him, waiting.  “He thought they were threatening him, they were threatening Nika’s daughter.”

“But they weren’t?”

“No.”  He rubs his eyes, sighs.  “They were trying to warn him that Nika’s brother was in the group with them.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.  Maybe the idea was to ambush us.  I don’t know…”

“So what, Rosso gets into a fight with them, someone’s got a gun—“

“—Nika’s brother.”

“It goes off—“

“—automatic fire.  Multiple casualties.  Civilians,” Steve raps out, like he’s delivering a report.

“So Ed comes into the room and…?”

“Ed speaks…he spoke Pashto.  And we’d been briefed about Nika’s family.  But now Rosso’s wounded and yelling at him not to hurt her.  Nika’s brother is face down on the ground with a GSW.  There’s people screaming at him that one of the terrorists is in the room, he’s got bodies everywhere and he just…he hesitated.  Just for a split second but…”

It was enough for someone to get a shot off at him, Grover thinks, as his friend slumps back again. 

Damn.

Danny mirrors Steve’s posture, studying the ceiling, his face scrunched up in thought.  “Okay.   So Nika’s brother‘s still had a gun.  And Rosso lied at the enquiry.   He was responsible for shooting the civilians, not Ed.  He panicked, maybe he guessed he’d been set up.  Or it was like Lou said; he was so scared he just lost it.”  He rubs his nose, clearly working something out.  “That leaves one question.   One big, very important question.  If no one else in the room was armed, who shot Nika’s daughter?”

It’s also a necessary question, Grover acknowledges, even though Steve deflates even further.  Ed had to be under threat to open fire on Nika’s daughter.  And Rosso, the target he’d been sent to rescue.

“It looks like she might have had a gun.”

Suddenly alert, Danny’s leaning forward again, peering at his friend.  “Why am I not liking that look on your face?”

“It was Ed’s comms recording, Danny.”  There’s a pause and Grover feels his heart sink.  “They showed me the video.”

Grover feels his brain scrambling to catch up with that statement.  Or maybe it’s just refusing to believe it, he’s not sure.  Replaying difficult memories in your mind is one thing.  But Steve’s just been shown them again in real time.

Oh.

“Jesus.”  Danny shuffles closer to the recliner, shoring up his partner as Steve closes his eyes again.   Grover pushes himself to his feet, swallowing back the emotion that’s threatening to overwhelm him.  This information is exactly what they were hoping for he reminds himself as he heads for the kitchen.  But seeing a friend so visibly upset is always hard. 

He takes a few minutes to potter around the kitchen, opening and closing doors loudly to fill the silence.  When he finally hears movement back in the living room Grover pours two glasses of water and takes them back with him.  When Danny offers him a glass Steve’s eyes slide open again.  He looks spent, every last bit of energy gone.

“So someone used the recording to blackmail Rosso.”  Grover says, making himself comfortable again.  There’s part of him that wants to back off now but there’s something about Steve’s posture that’s telling him they need to see this through to the end.  “Nika or Baker?”

Danny’s busy making sure Steve takes a drink but he looks over with a frown.  “Or both?  What if this started off as one thing but then they realised they could help each other out?  It wouldn’t be the first time it’d happened.”

Maybe Danny’s right, Grover thinks, turning the theory over in his head.  Nika definitely had the original picture of Rosso and his daughter.  And he’d been prepared to use it to discredit Rosso; he’d left it on the burner phone for them to find. 

If Baker had known about it surely he would have done something to stop it?  More importantly, why hadn’t the CIA done something?

“That might explain why he was at the warehouse with Nika,” he offers, rubbing his hand over his head.  “He wasn’t tracking Nika, he was meeting him—“

“—and that meeting went south.” Danny’s nodding, short sharp nods as he gulps down his own drink.

“They said he was working outside of his jurisdiction. Baker, I mean,” Steve elaborates, his attention on the glass in his hand, his finger drawing fat lines through the condensation. “Drug smuggling maybe. Money laundering. They’re still investigating. Either way, they think he might have been working with Nika.”

“And they thought they could use Rosso’s contacts to help them?” Isn’t that kinda risky?” 

Steve shrugs at his partner's question, ignores him when Danny looks pointedly at the still full glass.  "The CIA guy said they were tracking Nika, they did have concerns about his recent activity.  Baker told us the truth about that."

"The truth? Is that what they're calling it these days?"

"It's the CIA, Lou.  What do you want me to say? That I trust them?  That they didn't screw us over in Afghanistan?"

No.  I want you to say you're angry, Grover thinks, watching his grip on the glass tighten. Hell, he wants to yell at people, get answers, get someone to stand in front of him so he can explain how much this all _hurts_.   "Please don’t tell me they’re going to let Baker get away with this."

“The man’s dead, Lou. What difference—“

“We know. We saw him,” Danny cuts him off, frowning as he looks away and back again. “But that doesn’t excuse what he did.”

Steve's attention is suddenly on the glass again, his knuckles whitening. Danny throws him a worried glance across the table.  "That was the other thing they came to tell me,” he tells them, straightening his shoulders as he talks.  “The Navy's going to hold an investigation.  Not a full enquiry," he adds as Danny raises his hands, “but there will be interviews, panel hearings.  They want to set the record straight."

"By dragging you back through it again?  You told them the truth the first time, Steve.  You and O'Neill and Brown.  If they think they can--"

"Danny."

"--if they think they can just make you go over it all--"

"Danny.  They can.  And they will, okay?"

"No."

The glass makes a loud clink sound as Steve sets it on the table, turning all his attention on his partner.  "I want to do this.  This needs to end.  I should never have dragged everyone into this."

"We talked about this--"

"No."   Digging the palms of his hands into his eyes, Steve effectively stalls the mounting argument. “There's one more thing I need you both to understand," he adds, his voice rough as he lowers his hands.  "You can tell Chin and Kono about this conversation but you can’t tell anyone else.”

“Okay.” Grover feels the hairs on the back of his neck prickling at the tone in Danny’s voice. “So what else are you not telling us?”

Steve’s picking up the glass again, raising it to his lips, when it hits Grover what they’ve missed. “Didn’t that lady from the Navy say the information was classified?”

“Steven?”

“You needed to know.” 

“You’re risking your career.” 

“You _deserve_ to know.  I should never have asked you to help me—“

“If the Navy finds out what—“

“I don’t care.  I should never have put you in—“

“Stop.”  Danny’s held up his hand, demanding attention.  It’s in direct contrast to his tone of voice, Grover notes.  “We already talked about this in the hospital, didn’t we?”

“I should have—“

“Didn’t we?” He raises his hand again when he gets no reply.  “Yes or no, babe?”

Teeth gritted, Steve finally answers.  “Yes.” 

“And what did I say to you?”

“That none of this was my fault.”  Steve’s jiggling his left foot, his bare toes curling into the wooden floor. 

“So you don’t owe—“

“Danny—“

“Nothing, Steven.  You owe us nothing.  Right, Lou?”

It takes Grover a second to realise Danny’s waiting for an answer.  “It was our choice,” he agrees, leaning forward to move into their circle of confidence as Danny gives him a look of encouragement.  “We wouldn’t have had it any other way.  You know that.  Right?” he adds as Steve looks away.

With a wave of frustration Danny stands up.  “Don’t bother.  He’s not going to be happy unless he’s blaming himself.  Let’s—“

“I thought they had you, Danny!” Steve’s up on his feet and Grover feels himself rear back at the anger flashing in his friend’s eyes, pretends not to notice that his hands are fisted tightly.  “I thought Nika had you.  Do you know how that felt?  They could have killed—“

Steve lets out a surprised whoosh of air as Danny plants his hand firmly on his chest, crowding into his space.  “Nika _did_ have you!  He had you, Steve.  And that son of a bitch made us watch.  And if you think we’re just going to let you take the blame--” With a muttered curse, Danny backs off. “At least we had a choice,” he says finally, running his hands through his hair as he turns away.  “Unlike you.”

The way Steve’s chin jerks up makes Grover’s chest constrict, painfully.  Danny’s got his head down though, his lip caught painfully between his lip, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.  Before Grover can say anything Danny’s gone; the front door slams closed behind him.

“He’s not mad with you,” he says several minutes later into the painful silence.  Steve’s still standing, making him lean back in the couch to make eye contact.  “Okay, he is angry with you,” he corrects, “but that’s not new.  He’s angry at the Navy.”  Steve’s rapping his fists on his thighs, an angry, tight rhythm that’s mesmerising.  Grover forces himself to look up, tries not to feel hurt as Steve looks away.  “I know it’s crossed your mind that they knew about this cover up.  That they sacrificed your friend to protect Rosso.”

“I serve my country, Lou.  The same as you.  And Danny.” 

The staccato delivery sends a shiver down Grover’s spine but he forces himself to carry on, to maintain eye contact despite everything about Steve’s body language telling him to _fuck_ the hell off.  “I get that, Steve.  I really do.  But maybe it’s time to think of yourself?    To decide what you want,” he continues, bracing himself for the fallout he knows is about to come.  “Maybe it’s time to decide what your priorities are.”

Laughter fills the room.  But it’s a broken sound lacking Steve’s normal warmth.  “It’s that easy, huh?” he asks, sitting back in the recliner with a wince.

“Easy?  No,” Grover admits, feeling his heart clench with sympathy as his friend pinches the bridge of his nose, every move exuding exhaustion now that his anger is spent.

“I know I’ve served my time.  I get that.  It’s just…”

“You feel like you owe them?” Grover suggests, taking pity as Steve stutters to a halt.  He’s working on intuition, filling in the gaps of the information he knows about his friend.  When Steve responds, slumping forward to rest his arms on his knees, he knows he’s hit the jackpot.

He feels like a bastard for doing it though as Steve’s rough-edged voice breaks the silence again.  “The Navy gave me a home when I didn’t have one.  It’s not that easy.  I can’t…I can’t just walk away.”

Some debts are just impossible to repay, Grover thinks, as his friend peers sideways at him, his eyes downcast like a child who’s just confessed his greatest secret.  “We understand that.  All of us.  But you can have more than one home.” 

Lips pressed together in a tight line, hands knitted together, Steve leans back into the recliner and closes his eyes.  Grover takes the hint; the conversation is over.  It’s been a long, long day.

Reaching over he taps Steve on the leg before levering himself upwards.  “I’m going to head out, man.”

He’s made it all the way to the front door when Steve speaks again, regret woven through his words.  “I was just trying to keep everyone safe.  I’m sorry I screwed up.”

“And I’m sorry we didn’t get there sooner.”  The words are out of Grover’s mouth before he knows it and as much as they hurt there’s a feeling of immense relief that they’re out in the open.  The only response he gets from Steve though as he opens the front door is a small shift of the recliner.

Closing the door carefully behind him he takes in several deep lungfuls of air.  The Camaro’s still parked at the end of the driveway as he suspected it would be.  As he walks toward it Danny gets out and leans against the driver’s drive, arms crossed. 

‘How’s he doing?’ Danny’s expression asks as he takes the spot beside him, leaning against the car. Exhausted.  Hurting.  Mourning his friend all over again, Grover thinks.  But Danny knows all that.  “I’ll give Renee a call, get her to come get me,” he says instead, with a nod back towards the road. 

Danny hesitates, nods as he pushes himself upright again.  “’Kay.”  Smoothing his shirt down, he looks back towards the house.  “I’m just gonna…you know…”  He stabs a thumb back over his shoulder. 

“Okay.”  For a second or two they face each other.  There are words, Grover thinks, that he really ought to say.  “He just told me that he owes the Navy because they gave him a home when he didn’t have one,” he explains, averting his eyes as Danny blinks rapidly.  “You need to talk to him.  Tell him what we talked about in the hospital,” he prods gently.  “About why you stayed.”

“It won’t make any difference—“

Grover doesn’t reply, just cocks one eyebrow and waits.  That’s something that binds these two men, a shared sorrow, that he imagines they’d identified in each other almost instantly.  Over the years they’ve occasionally forgotten that, let it be buried under the events that followed.  But he can see it in Danny’s eyes now; the understanding of how it feels to have everything you’ve built your life on threatened or even worse, taken away.

When Renee pulls up a quarter of hour later he’s standing on the driveway alone.  Dragging his eyes away from the house he gets in the car.  He doesn’t know what expression he’s wearing but she cups his chin and pulls him close, her lips coming to rest gently on his head.  She’s warm and alive and as she swipes his cheek, rubbing away the moisture there, he’s reminded why he’s never ever going to let this beautiful woman go. 

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

“See, that’s what I was talking about,” Danny announces, sweeping into the kitchen, Grace close behind him.  “Food.  Lots of food.”

Grover looks up from the food he’s been preparing for the barbecue.  He’s been trying not to drool all morning but now Renee’s got food in the oven it’s a losing battle.  They’ve got enough to feed a small army he thinks with a satisfied smile.  It’s gonna be one hell of an evening.

“You need any help there, Lou?”  Danny’s peering in bowls and lifting lids, licking his lips appreciatively.  Behind him Grace is rolling her eyes at her father.  The affection they feel for each other is clear.

“Will’s outside,” he tells her, reaching over to give her a welcoming hug.  She curls around him instantly, easy with her affection.  So like Danny, Grover thinks, shaking his head.  “Samantha’s upstairs.”

“Cool.”

She’s gone before he can say anything else, her pony tail swinging as she disappears through the door.  “She’s been talking about this all week,” Danny tells him as he turns back to the food.  “All week.”

“What can I say, man?  My parties are legendary.”  

“ _Your_ parties, Lou?  Are you sure about that?”

Grover ignores Danny’s snort of laughter as Renee appears in the kitchen like a magic genie.  Only stopping long enough to swipe his ass and grabs some plates she disappears again.  She’s a woman on a mission and he knows better than to mess with that.

“So.  It looks like you’ve got everything under…control.”  Danny’s still smirking, rubbing his hands as he speaks but it’s a welcome sight so Grover lets it go.  It’s clear Grace isn’t the only one who’s been looking forward to this.

“Grab a beer,” he suggests as Danny loiters uncertainly, his fingers twitching as if he wants to help.  “Chin and Kono are out back.”

“I’m good.”

“Okay.” With a shrug he turns back to the food.  Preparing the steaks, he seasons carefully and tastes the sauce, then tastes it again.  He wants it to be perfect and it’s not quite there.  More tasting, more seasoning, more prodding at the meat.  He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t realise Danny’s sidled up beside him.

“I think it’s dead, Lou.”

With a huff of frustration he gives up, throwing the meat into a tray, ready for the grill.  “I know that.”  Pretending not to notice that Danny’s watching him, his expression worryingly perceptive, he goes to the fridge

“So.  What’s the big deal?” 

The problem with Danny Williams, Grover thinks, is that he reads people too well.  He’s been doing it to McGarrett for years, deciphering him, slowing getting his friend to open up.  It’s taken dogged persistence.  And now he’s turning that persistence on him.

There’s no harm in trying to distract him though.   “I just want it to be good.  That’s all.” 

It’s immediately obvious that Danny’s seen straight through his plan.  “I saw Chin outside.  He said you were jittery as hell.  So, either you’re worried you haven’t got enough food,” he continues, with a wave that encompasses the heavily-laden kitchen table, “or there’s something you’re not saying.”

“I told you.  I just want it to—“

Danny’s eyebrows rise and he knows it’s a lost cause.  “Renee’s parties _are_ legendary.  I wasn’t just saying that,” he nudges gently, his lips flicking up in a smile of encouragement.  “So you wanna tell me really is wrong?  Huh?”

“Nothing.”  Despite the difference in their heights Grover feels like Danny’s looming over him.  “Okay.  Okay,” he concedes after a beat, reaching over to close the door before facing his friend again.  “You’re gonna think this is stupid, man.”

“Try me.”

Grabbing a kitchen towel to wipe his hands he gives himself a moment to get his thoughts together.  “The day this all kicked off,” he starts, folding the towel carefully.  “That morning.  It was a good day, you know?” And it was, he reflects, drifting back.  It was almost perfect. 

“The sun, the surf, the kids not misbehaving.  Us.  The team,” Danny suggests, as if he’s reading his mind.  “What?  I’ve been there,” he insists, proving his point with his hands.  

“I want that feeling back.”

Danny’s heartfelt sigh makes him want to curl in on herself.  “We all do.” 

A hand rests on his shoulder and he tells himself to breathe.  It’s been six weeks since the incident at the warehouse.  They’ve been back at work, solving cases, doing everything they did before.  But it’s still missing; that thing that gave them energy, that made them one whole. 

Nika took that from them.  And he wants it back so bad.

“So you figured we’d have a party.”

Danny’s watching him again, the warmth of his hand still resting gently on his back.  “Stupid idea, right?”

“We’re all here, aren’t we?” 

And they are, Lou realises, or they will be once Steve turns up.  It had been a last minute idea.  Not much notice.  But they’d all jumped at the idea. 

Even Steve.

“See?”  There’s pressure on his shoulder before Danny moves away.  “You should listen to your own advice,” he says, tapping the side of his head.  “You give good advice, my friend.”

Grover can’t stop himself from looking away; he’s always been bad at accepting genuine compliments.  What Danny and Steve had talked about that day after he’d left them he has no idea.  But neither of them is a tightly wound ball of anger anymore.  Sure, there’s anger still simmering under the surface.  But it’s not the destructive kind.

As Danny retrieves a beer he turns back to the food, arranging trays for the grill.  There’s a clink as the cap is flicked off the bottle, the sound of chair legs being dragged along the floor, a sigh of satisfaction as Danny takes his first gulp of beer.    In the background he can hear music playing, the sound of Samantha singing over the top of the tune.  Outside Renee’s talking to Chin and Kono and whatever she’s said has them laughing.

A feeling of peace is nudging at him, warmth wrapping around him.  Protected.  That’s what he’s feeling, Grover realises, letting his hands still, just enjoying the moment.  This is what it had felt like that day.  Before they’d taken that call from Agent Baker.

“It was going to be karaoke,” he blurts out, looking over his shoulder, the memory suddenly so vivid that he isn’t able to stop his mouth overriding his brain. 

“What the--” Beer sloshes in the bottle as Danny’s hand freezes half way to his mouth.  “Karaoke?   Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“Bon Jovi.  You were singing Bon Jovi in my truck and I thought—“

“Have you heard Steve singing?  Have you?  I’m guessing not.  Because McGarrett singing is not a thing of beauty, my friend.  Seriously.  It’s not.” 

He can’t help himself, there’s just too many questions running through his head.  “Where did you hear him—“

“80s radio, Lou. In my car.  Every day.”  The sound of his cell vibrating stops him mid-sentence.   Danny retrieves it, rolling his eyes as he shows him the screen.  “Talk of the devil,” he mutters, scrolling through to the messages. 

Deep down, Grover can feel the now familiar stirrings of panic.  Steve’s been fine, he reminds himself sternly.  Those first few days after the CIA and Navy had visited had been tough on him.  But since then he’s pulled himself back up.  Getting fit, attending meetings at Pearl-Hickham.  The Doctors are pleased with his progress; he’s hoping to be back on active duty in the next few days.

He’s been unusually open and frank about everything.  But it had been the last meeting at Pearl-Hickham today.  The one they’re hoping will put a lid on this incident once and for all.

Danny’s eyes widen when he looks up.  “Stand down,” he instructs, showing Grover the screen again.  “He’s just bringing more beer.”

Grover can’t control the way his shoulders visibly sag.  “But I told everyone not to—“

“Just go with it,” Danny directs, tucking his cell away.  “I spoke to him this morning,” he adds, stretching as he gets up.  “He was fine.  I mean, he was focused, doing that Navy SEAL thing, but he was fine.  Really.” 

Danny looks relaxed, Grover thinks, but he still can’t help wondering just who is reassuring who.  He goes with it, nods, is rewarded when Danny surveys the kitchen again and with a widening smile starts collecting up plates to take outside.

“Okay,” he says out loud to himself as the kitchen door swings closed behind his friend.  “Let’s get this show on the road.”

H50H50H50H50

“You didn’t tell me he’d lost weight.”

Renee’s whispered the words in his ear but before he can respond she’s moving to greet Steve who’s standing at the edge of yard, looking nervous.   Looking at his friend through his wife’s eyes Grover can see what she means.  But he looks so much better than he had in the hospital, or even just a few weeks ago he wants to say.  The Hawaiian shirt and jeans might be hanging off him more loosely than normal but there’s life in his eyes.  And when he moves that sense of contained energy is back.

His view is obscured as Renee leans in for a hug, one that is returned a heartbeat later.  The grateful look in his friend’s eyes make his breath hitch but then Gracie’s dodging in for a hug of her own and everything’s moving again.  

He’s so engrossed it takes Grover a moment to notice his friend is not alone.  Two men are standing behind him, their features masked by the glare of the sun.  Raising his hand to shade his eyes doesn’t help; it’s Kono’s relieved yell that identifies them for him.

“Hey!  We were so worried about you!”

As O’Neill and Brown step out from behind Steve, Grover feels a grin spreading on his face.  While Steve had been in the hospital they’d tried tracking the two men.  Just in case they’re in trouble, Chin had suggested, when they’d been worried whether tracking them would actually put them at more risk.  They hadn’t found them, of course.  And once he’d been back on his feet Steve had been adamant that they should back off.

So they backed off.  But Grover knew he wasn’t the only one who’d fretted over that decision.

There’s more welcomes, hugs and handshakes, the members of the team taking it in turns to say hello.  The ex-SEALs look awkward, Grover notices, not sure where to put themselves.  It’s not until everyone steps away that he notices how smartly they’re dressed.  Like they’ve been to a meeting. 

Damn.

“This is my wife, Renee,” he says, waving her over from where she’s been watching, a confused expression on her face.  Her confusion grows as they formally introduce themselves, shoulders back, a polite ‘ma’am,’ tacked on the end.

“Navy SEALs,” Danny explains.

“The guys who saved our asses,” Grover adds.

If they weren’t comfortable with public displays of affection before, Grover’s pretty sure they’re way out of their comfort zone now.  Renee’s pulling them into a joint hug before they can even blink.  Her muffled ‘thank you’ makes him swallow hard, forces him to turn away because he’ll be damned if he’s going to lose his shit in front of the kids.

“You alright?”  Steve’s appeared beside him.  The stealthy bastard always catches him out.

He runs his hand across his face before waving his concern away.  “Need to go check on those steaks.”

“I’ll do it.”  Renee’s moving past him and he puts out a hand to stop her.  With a shake of head she reaches up to plant a quick kiss on his lips before she’s gone again, heading for the house.  He licks the salty taste away.

There’s an awkward silence until Brown exchanges a nervous look with O’Neill and clears his throat.  “We bought beer,” he offers, shuffling his feet.  “We weren’t sure if you’d have enough food.  But we can go get something if you want.  Or we can leave,” he continues, wiping his hand on his trouser leg as he speaks.  “We weren’t sure…you know, after everything…”

As four pairs of eyes stare back at him in disbelief he stutters to a halt.  As one they turn their attention on Steve, eyebrows raised.  Beside him Grover watches as his friend has the good sense to look sheepish.  As usual, they leave it to Danny to deliver their verdict on their team leader’s behaviour.

“You’re an idiot, babe.”

H50H50H50H50H50

Steve’s shovelling chips into his mouth like he hasn’t eaten for weeks.  Which he kinda hasn’t, Grover thinks, remembering the minute portions of food he’s seen his friend consume recently.  Sat at the table beside him, Danny’s talking to Grace.  But the glances he’s throwing at his partner don’t go unnoticed.  He can see O’Neill watching him too.

“How’s he been?” O’Neill asks him a while later as they both watch the steaks grill.

“Getting there,” Grover replies concentrating on flipping things, trying not to remember the last month and a half. 

“That’s good.”

“And you?”  O’Neill tucks his beer closer to his chest.  Grover adapts his question accordingly.  “How long have you been back on the island?”

“Just over a week.”

“For the meetings at Pearl-Hickham?  Steve said it had been going okay.”

Out of the corner of his eye he can see the ex-SEAL frowning, his gaze travelling across to his friends.  He gives him a moment, humming in appreciation at the aroma of the cooking meat, prodding and turning while he waits.  Details aren’t what he’s expecting; McGarrett’s been using the word ‘classified’ on a regular basis again. 

“Steve was the one who talked us into coming back,” O’Neill confesses and Grover can’t stop himself from looking up in surprise.  “Said it might help.”

Carefully he puts down the cooking utensils, picks up his own beer bottle instead.   “And is it?”

“Maybe.”  O’Neill’s expansive shrug speaks volumes.  “It can’t change what happened.”

“But it can help lay a few ghosts to rest.”

The ex-SEAL considers the question, weighs him up.  He must agree with whatever he sees because he nods.   “We all knew what we getting ourselves into.  You don’t become a Navy SEAL because it’s easy.  Or safe.  But it would be good to know who your enemies are.” 

He doesn’t need to explain, Grover thinks.  “The CIA.  You think they knew about Baker?”

O’Neill doesn’t answer, just takes a gulp of his beer and looks at his watch.  “It’s good of you to invite us but we’ve got an early flight tomorrow so…”

“Where’s home?” 

The simple question earns him another searching look.  A longer one, that makes him squirm.  “Montana.  On a ranch,” O’Neill adds when he realises Grover is still waiting.  “That’s where I live.”  

For a second Grover thinks that’s all he’s going to get.  He’s not surprised, it’s not like they really know each other.  But then there’s that look again; he’s being scanned from head to toe.  And suddenly it’s like someone’s turned on a tap.

He listens quietly as the ex-SEAL tells him about his life since he left the Navy.  Reading between the lines Grover understands it’s not been easy.  O’Neill is a man who seeks solitude. Over at the table Brown is playing a card game with Chin, Grace and Samantha.  He’s joining in, smiling, but it’s obvious he feels out of place.  It’s so different from the confidence they’d shown during the raid on the warehouse, Grover thinks, his mind creeping back to that day despite his best efforts.

“I’m guessing you’re not from around here either?”

“Chicago.”  Blinking, he drags himself back to the present. O’Neill’s studying him over the top of his beer bottle.  “Something happened.  The job.  So we moved here.”

“Together.”  The ex-SEAL’s looking over his shoulder, at the house, at Renee who’s on the porch talking to Will.  There’s a flash of something that crosses his expression and it takes him a second to understand it.

He looks…wistful.

“Steve used to talk about this place.  Hawai’i.  We all thought he was nuts to stay away.”

“Yeah.  Well…”  There’s a whole story about why he stayed away, Grover thinks.  And a reason he had to come back.  Assuming O’Neill knows all the details though wouldn’t be a smart move.  It’s Steve’s story to tell. 

“He’s…settled.”  Grover can hear the surprise in O’Neill’s voice.  “Never thought I’d see that.”

“I think it works both ways.  The settled thing,” he explains, nodding towards the team at the table.  Kono, Danny and Steve are sitting at the other end and Danny’s got them both laughing at something he’s said.  Steve’s loose-limbed and happy, his face split in a wide grin.  “We’ve all got our own stories, our reasons for staying here.”

“Good.” O’Neill takes another long draught of his beer, his expression distant as swallows slowly.  “Don’t ever lose focus on what’s important,” he says quietly, lifting the bottle again, pausing before he takes another sip.  “You don’t want to wake up one day and find it’s not there not anymore.”

H50H50H50H50

It’s a couple of hours later when Steve drops the final bombshell.

O’Neill and Brown have headed back to their hotel, still claiming they need their rest because they’ve got an early flight.  That’s not the real reason, Grover suspects.  They’ve looked uncomfortable all night.  He gets it, he really does.  But he hopes they’ll accept the team’s invitation to come back and visit sometime.  When things aren’t so recent and raw.

Full of food they’re sitting around the table, kicking back.  The kids have disappeared into one of the bedrooms.  Renee’s in the house somewhere, cleaning up.  He’s offered to help but she’d shoo-ed him away, told him to go and enjoy himself.  They’re having fun, laughing, and it’s exactly like old times.

With hindsight, Grover thinks, he should have guessed that Steve McGarrett would choose that moment to throw in something explosive, something to keep them on their toes.

“Are you serious?”  Danny’s obviously struggling to understand what he’s just heard.  “You’ve resigned from the Navy?”

“Not yet,” Steve corrects him.  He’s wearing an expression that tells Grover just how patient he’s struggling to be.  “I’m going to the base tomorrow to discuss my options.”

“And then you’ll resign?”

“Probably.  There’s some paperwork to go through but it should be straightforward.”  Lips pursed he looks at each of the team in turn, who are sitting around the table with him.  Finally his gaze settles back on his partner.  “I thought you’d be pleased.”

“It’s not about us, Steve.” Tucking his hands on top of each other on the table, Danny looks unusually restrained. “If that’s what you want babe, we’re good.  All I’m saying is this might not be the right time to make this decision.”

“It is.”  Grover’s expecting to see his friend’s trademark bullish expression.  Instead he’s surprised to see he’s absolutely calm.  “I know what I’m doing, Danny.”

“Okay.”  It’s Chin who’s spoken this time, his voice understanding but still uncertain.  “Just make sure you’re not doing this for us, brah.  We understand...the last few months have been tough.  For all of us.  But we’d never ask you to give up the Navy.”

Letting a long breath out through his nose, Steve sits back.  For a moment Grover thinks he’s going to argue.  Then he lifts his hands, palms up.  “I’ve been thinking about it for weeks,” he explains quietly, his eyes flicking briefly across to him.  “And I was thinking about it before then.  Seeing O’Neill and Brown again, talking to them…  It just confirmed what I already knew.”

“It’s a big change.”  Danny’s got his bottom lip stuck out, his eyebrows raising as his partner shakes his head.

“It isn’t though, not really.  Not now.”   That’s probably optimistic, Grover thinks, as Steve breaks off, running his fingertips over the rough wood of the table.  “Coming back to Hawai’i was hard.  Six years ago, I hadn’t met all of you.” 

“So you are blaming us, babe?”  Danny retorts, but there’s a grin threatening to break out.

“Yes, Danny.  I’m definitely blaming all of you.”  His pronouncement is met with laughter but they quieten down when his expression turns serious again.  “I’ve got a new home here.  I have done for a while now.”

Danny leans over, moves into his partner’s personal space.  “You can still have that and be in the Navy—“

“What the--  Are you just arguing with me for the sake of it, Danny?  Because when we talked about this before you said—“

“I just want you to be sure!”

“I am!” 

There’s silence for a moment.  Then Steve leans across to nudge his friend, an apologetic smile on his face.  Gradually Danny’s frown fades.  There’s still a stubborn look in his eye, one that promises hell for his partner if he’s wrong.   Steve’s seen it too, Grover realises; his face has lit up with a big grin.

It’s not only Steve who’s looking happier he notices, looking around at his friends.  It’s like someone has lifted a huge weight off all their shoulders.   “To new beginnings,” he proposes to the table, lifting his beer.  Maybe it’s corny, he thinks, as everyone follows his lead.  But it feels right.

It doesn’t really matter what happens to Nika and Rosso now, he suddenly realises, O’Neill’s words finally sinking in.  None of them around the table can change what happened.  And he’s not even sure he wants to know what Baker was doing; ignorance really is an advantage sometimes.  But they cleared the name of Petty Officer First Class Eduardo Almeida.  And Steve finally got to find out what happened to his friend.

He raises his beer again, silently this time.   He shouldn’t really be surprised, Grover thinks, when everyone around him does the same.  They’re sombre for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts.  But then Steve nods, his lips pressed tight, his eyes flicking to them each in turn.  Raising his bottle one more time he takes a long drink from it and the conversation starts again.

His message, Grover thinks, is loud and clear. 

It’s time to focus on the future.

THE END 


End file.
